'1^^  ^  Mch  Middeldorf 


ENGLISH  PHILOSOPHERS. 


Edited  by  IvvAN  Muller.  A  series  presenting  a  comprehensive  and  de- 
tailed statement  of  their  several  views  and  contributions  to  philosophy, 
together  with  brief  biographical  studies  of  the  men  themselves. 

1.  Adam  Smith.    By  J.  Farrer.    Octavo,  cloth  extra,  $1.25. 

"  Clearly  and  forcibly  written.  •  *  *  The  series  should  prove  most  valuable." 
Christian  Ref^ister. 

2.  Hamilton.    By  Prof.  Monck.    Octavo,  cloth  extra,  $1.25. 

"  Contains  clear  description  and  intelligent  criticism.  *  *  ♦  This  able  introduc- 
tion should  direct  renewed  attention  to  the  important  work  of  the  father  of  modern 
English  philosophy." — London  Athenaeum. 

3.  Hartley  and  James  Mill.    By  Prof.  H.  S.  Bower.  Octavo, 

cloth  extra,  $1.25. 

"  A  scholarly  volume.  *  *  *  The  positions  of  the  two  philosophers  are  presented 
with  admirable  clearness." — Baltimore  Bulletin. 

4.  Bacon.    By  Prof.  Thomas  Fowler.    Octavo,  cloth  extra,  $1.25. 
"The  work  is  of  a  character  much  needed,  and  is  prepared  in  an  excellent  and 

scholarly  manner." — Boston  Post. 

5.  Shaftesbury  and  Hutchison.     By  Prof.  Thomas  Fowler. 

Octavo,  cloth  extra,  $1.25. 
/«  preparation  for  this  series. — An  introduction  to  the  Study  of 
Philosophy,  by  Prof.  Sidgwick  ;  and  volumes  on  Berkeley,  Mill, 
I/obbes,  etc. 


G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS, 


NEW  YORK. 


ENGLISH  PHILOSOPHERS 


SHAFTESBURY 


HUTCHESON 


BY 

THOMAS  FOWLER,  M.A.,  LL.D.  (Edinb.),  F.S.A. 

'RESIDENT  OF  CORPUS   CHRISTI  COLLEGE,  AND  PROFESSOR  OF  LOGIC   IN  THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  OXFORD  ;  LATE  FELLOW  OF  LINCOLN  COLLEGE 


NEW  YORK 
G.   P.   PUTNAM'S  SONS 

27  &  29  WEST  23D  STREET 
18S3 


Pr^ss  of 
G.  P.  Putnam'' s  Sons 
A'e7v  York 


PEBFACE. 


Theue  are  no  two  o£  the  "better-known  English  Philosopliers 
whose  writings  are  so  closely  related  as  those  of  Shaftesbury 
and  Huteheson.  It  is^  therefore,  appropriate  that  they  should 
both  be  noticed  in  the  same  vohime. 

The  Life  of  Shaftesbury,  which  appears  in  this  work,  is  the 
most  detailed  which  has  yet  been  published.  It  is  mainly 
taken  from  original  documents  contained  among  the  Shaftes- 
bury Papers  in  the  Public  Record  Office.  The  authorities  for 
my  statements  are  almost  invariably  given.  My  warmest 
thanks  are  due  to  Mr.  Noel  Sainsbury  for  the  valuable  in- 
formation and  the  efficient  assistance  which  he  constantly 
afforded  to  me  during  the  progress  of  this  part  of  my  book. 
His  well-arranged  catalogue  of  the  Shaftesbury  Papers  has 
now  rendered  this  most  important  series  of  documents  easily 
accessible  to  the  student  of  history.  It  is  also  a  great  pleasure 
to  me  to  take  this  opportunity  of  expressing  my  gratitude  to 
Mr.  Garnett  of  the  British  Museum,  who  is  always  ready  to 
give  every  assistance  and  facility  to  any  one  engaged  in 


VI 


PREFACE. 


serious  study  in  the  Museum.  It  is  to  him  that  I  owe  my 
knowledge  of  several  manuscripts  in  the  British  Museum, 
bearing  on  Shaftesbury's  life  or  writings. 

I  have  also  to  express  my  thanks  to  the  Publishers  of  the 
Enci/clopcedia  Britannica  for  their  courtesy  in  permitting  me 
to  make  use  of  my  article  on  Hutcheson,  already  published  in 
the  Eaojclopmlia.  The  four  chapters,  however,  on  Hutcheson, 
contained  in  this  volume,  embody  much  more  matter,  and 
are,  in  every  way,  more  complete,  than  my  article,  which  was 
necessarily  composed  with  a  view  to  condensation. 


C.  a  a  Oxford,  March  20,  1882. 


CONTENTS. 

SHAFTESBURY. 
CHAPTER  I. 

CAGB 

Lite  and  CnARACXER  1 

CHAPTEE  II. 

Works  and  Sttlb  ,      .  42 

CHAPTEE  III. 

Shaftesbury's  Ethical  Theory   63 

CHAPTEE  lY. 

Shaftesbury's  Theories  on  Eeligion,  Beauty,  and  Art  .      .  103 
CHAPTEE  Y. 

Eeception  and  Influence  of  Shaftesbury's  Writings     .      .  135 


Life  and  Works 


HUTCHESON. 
CHAPTEE  I. 


.  169 


viii 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  II. 

PAGE 

Hutcheson's  Etuical  Theory  183 

CHAPTER  III. 
HuTcnEsoN's  "Weitings  on  Mental  Pkilosopuy,  Logic,  and 

^STUETICS  201 

CHAPTER  lY. 

Reception  and  Influence  oe  Hutcheson's  Whitings      •      *  214 


SHAFTESBUEY. 


CHAPTER  I. 

LIFE    AND  CHARACTER. 

The  printed  materials  for  a  Life  of  Shaftesbury  are  somewhat 
scanty.  They  consist  mainly  of  his  published  letters,  of  the 
account  of  him  in  the  General  Dictionary  ^  by  Dr.  Thomas 
Birch,  subsequently  editor  of  Bacon's  works,  a  writer  and 
compiler  of  considerable  reputation  in  his  day_,  and,  lastly, 
of  Toland's  Introduction  to  Letters  from  the  late  Earl  of 
Shaftesbury  to  Robert  Molesivorth,  Esq.  This  last  work  was 
published,  without  the  permission  either  of  Lord  Molesworth, 
the  donor  of  the  letters,  or  of  Shaftesbury's  family,  who, 
considering"  the  character  of  the  contents,  were  naturally  very 
indignant  at  their  premature  publication.  I  shall  recur  here- 
after to  this  subject,  but  I  mention  the  circumstance  at  once, 

^  The  General  Dictionary  (3734-41)  is  founded  on  the  Dictionary  of 
Bajle,  but  contains  many  additional  lives.  The  principal  contributors 
are  J.  P.  Bernard,  T.  Birch,  and  J.  Lockman.  The  original  papers  from 
which  Dr.  Birch's  Life  of  Shaftesbury  was  printed  are  contained  in  the 
Birch  MSS.  in  the  British  Museum,  No.  4254.  Two  letters  which 
passed  between  him  and  the  Fourth  Earl,  showing  that  the  Life  in  the 
General  Dictionary  was  not  onl}'  extracted  from  the  MS.  Life  written 
by  the  Fourth  Earl  (see  below)  but  also  revised  by  him,  are  contained  in 
No.  4318  of  the  same  collection.  It  is  very  curious  that  Dr.  Birch  makes 
no  acknowledgments  to  the  Fourth  Earl  in  his  printed  Life.  Probably, 
for  some  reason  or  other,  he  had  been  requested  not  to  do  so. 

B 


2 


SHAFTESBURY, 


because  I  think  thab  the  indignation  of  Shaftesbury's  family 
and  friends  at  the  behaviour  of  Toland  should  lead  us  to  view 
with  some  misgiving  the  unqualified  condemnation  of  the 
"  Introduction''  expressed  by  Dr.  Birch,  who  describes  it  as 
"chiefly  founded  on  conjecture/'  and  containing  "many 
things  absolutely  false."  As  the  document  must,  however, 
be  regarded  with  suspicion,  I  shall  never  use  it  as  an 
authority,  without  expressly  citing  it. 

I  have  been  able,  however,  by  means  of  the  Shaftesbury 
Papers,  now  de})osited  in  the  Record  Office,  and  admirably 
arranged  and  catalogued  by  Mr.  Noel  Sainsbury,  botli  to 
check  and  to  supplement  the  printed  authorities.  The  papers 
relating  to  the  Third  Earl  of  Shaftesbury^,  which  are  very 
numerous,  and  would,  I  think,  well  repay  a  more  careful 
investigation  than  that  which  I  have  been  able  to  give  to 
them,  include,  besides  many  letters  and  memoranda,  two  lives 
of  him,  composed  by  his  son,  the  Fourth  Earl.  One  of  tliese 
is  a  rough  draft  in  the  handwriting  of  the  Fourth  Earl, 
accompanied  by  several  loose  papers,  on  which  are  written 
still  rougher  drafts  of  sentences,  or  paragraphs ;  the  other  a 
fair  co])y,  occasionally  omitting,  however,  passages  or  clauses 
of  interest  which  are  contained  in  the  other  manuscripts.  The 
fair  copy  is  evidently  the  original  of  the  Life  in  the  General 
Bidionaryy  which  usually  reproduces  it  word  for  word, 
though  several  portions  of  the  Earl's  account  are  omitted  in 
the  printed  biography,  and  sometimes  small  details  are  sup- 
plied by  Dr.  Birch  which  are  not  in  the  original.  It  would 
be  needlessly  tedious,  in  the  following  sketch,  to  discriminate 
the  various  authorities  for  each  minute  particular;  but, 
speaking  generally,  it  may  be  understood  that,  when  not 
otherwise  stated,  I  am  following  the  account  of  Dr.  Birch  as 
extracted  from  the  fair  copy  of  the  Life  written  by  the  Fourth 
Earl.    This  sketch  of  his  Father's  Life,  says  its  author,  "  was 


LIFE  AND  CHARACTER. 


3 


once  intended  to  have  been  prefixed  to  a  new  edition  of  the 
Chdracterisfics,  thou^-hj  upon  considering*  further  on  it,  that 
thoui^-ht  was  laid  aside.  For  the  lives  of  persons  who  spend 
most  of  their  time  in  study  can  never  afford  matter  to  enliven 
a  narrative."  We,  at  this  distance  of  time,  can  only  regret 
that  the  writer  was  so  modest  and  reticent  as  not  to  leave  us 
still  further  details  of  his  fatlvu-'s  life  and  character, 

Anthony  Ashley  Cooper,  the  third  Earl  of  Shaftesbury 
was  born  at  Exeter  House  in  London,  February  26,  1670-1. 
He  was  grandson  of  the  celebrated  and  unfortunate  Earl 
of  Shaftesbury,  who  was  Lord  High  Chancellor  of  England 
in  the  time  of  Charles  IL,  and  son  of  the  second  Earl  by  the 
Lady  Dorothy  Manners,  daughter  of  John  Earl  of  Rutland. 
The  marriage  between  his  father  and  mother,  the  father  being" 
then  only  seventeen  years  of  age,  had  been  negotiated  by  no 
less  a  person  than  John  Locke,  who  was  a  trusted  friend  of 
the  first  Earl  of  Shaftesbury,  and  long  an  inmate  of  his 
house.  The  story  is  told,  with  some  little  exaggerations 
towards  the  close  of  the  narrative,  by  the  subject  of  the 
present  memoir.  "  My  father  was  an  only  child,  and  of  no 
firm  health  ;  which  induced  my  grandfather,  in  concern  for 
his  family,  to  think  of  marrying  him  as  soon  as  possible. 
He  was  too  young  and  inexperienced  to  choose  a  wife  for 
himself,  and  my  grandfather  too  much  in  business  to  choose 
one  for  him.  The  affair  was  nice,  for,  though  my  grandfather 
required  not  a  great  fortune,  he  insisted  on  good  blood,  good 
person  and  constitution,  and,  above  all,  good  education  and  a 
character  as  remote  as  possible  from  that  of  Court-  or  Town- 
bred  Lady.  All  this  was  thrown  upon  Mr.  Lock,  who, 
being  already  so  good  a  judge  of  men,  my  grandfather 
doubted  not  of  his  equal  judgment  in  women.    He  departed 

B  'I 


4 


SHAFTESBURY. 


from  him,  entrusted  and  sworn,  as  Abraham's  head-servant 
that  ruled  over  all  that  he  had,  and  went  into  a  far  country 
(the  North  of  Eng-land)  to  seek  for  his  son  a  wife  whom  he 
as  successfully  found. ''^^  Locke's  commission,  however,  was 
not  quite  of  the  roving  character  here  represented.  It  was 
definitely  to  the  Earl  of  Rutland's  at  Bel  voir  Castle,  whither 
he  accompanied  his  pupil,  then  Mr.  Ashley,  in  the  summer  of 
1069,  and  where  he  seems  to  have  brought  the  negotiations 
to  a  successful  issue.  This  second  Lord  Shaftesbury  appears 
to  have  been  a  poor  creature,  both  physically  and  mentally ; 

born  a  shapeless  lump,  like  anarchy,^'  according  to  what  is 
doubtless  the  overwrought  metaphor  of  Dryden.  Any  way, 
according  to  the  testimony  even  of  the  Fourth  Earl,  as 
contained  in  the  rough  draft  of  the  Lifiy  he  "  was  confined 
almost  altogether  within  doors/'  and,  when  a  man,  was  still 
suffering  from  the  medical  treatment  he  had  received  for ''a 
disorder  he  had  fallen  into,  when  but  fifteen  years  old.''  At 
the  early  age  of  three,  his  son  was  made  over  to  the  formal 
guardianship  of  the  grandfather.  Locke,  who,  in  his  capacity 
of  medical  attendant  to  the  Ashley  household,  had  already 
assisted  in  bringing  the  boy  into  the  world,  though  not  his 
instructor,  was  entrusted  with  the  superintendence  of  his 
education.  The  care  of  the  philosopher  was  extended  to  his 
health  and  bodily  training  as  well  as  to  his  mental  develop- 
ment. And,  if  Shaftesbury's  memory  did  not  deceive  him, 
when  writing  in  middle  life,  it  was  afterwards  shared  in  by 
his  six  brothers  and  sisters.  The  letter  already  quoted, 
proceeds:  "Of  her"  (the  wife  whom  Locke  ''successfully 
found ")  "  I  and  six  more  of  us,  brothers  and  sisters,  were 

2  Letter  from  the  Third  Earl  of  Shaftesbury  to  Le  Clerc,  preserved  in 
the  Remonstrants'  Library  at  Amsterdam.  This  letter  was  published  in 
Notes  and  Querirs,  First  Series,  vol.  iii.  pp.  97 — 99.  There  are  two  copies 
of  it  amongst  the  Shaftesbury  Papers  in  the  Record  Office  (Bundle  22, 
Letter  Books  2  and  5). 


LIFE  AND  CHARACTER. 


5 


born;  in  whose  education  Mr.  Locke  governed  according*  to 
his  own  principles  (since  published  by  him)  and  with  such 
success  that  we  all  of  us  came  to  full  years,  with  strong-  and 
henlthy  constitutions  :  my  own  the  worst,  though  never 
faulty  till  of  late.  I  was  his  more  peculiar  charge,  being,  as 
eldest  son,  taken  by  my  grandfather  and  bred  under  his 
immediate  care :  Mr.  Lock  having  the  absolute  direction  of 
my  education,  and  to  whom,  next  my  immediate  parents,  as 
I  must  own  the  greatest  obligation,  so  I  have  ever  preserved 
the  highest  gratitude  and  duty."  A  few  lines  lower, 
Shaftesbury  stjles  Locke  his  "  friend  and  foster-father," 
though  this  sentiment  did  not  prevent  him,  as  we  shall 
hereafter  see,  from  severely  criticising  the  principles  of 
Lockers  philosophy.  The  actual  instruction  was  given,  ^^ot 
by  Locke,  but  by  a  Mrs.  Elizabeth  Birch,  daughter  ol  a 
schoolmaster  in  Oxfordshire  or  Berkshire.  This  lady,  who 
was  a  proficient  in  the  learned  languages,  pursued  Locke's 
method  of  teaching  Latin  and  Greek  conversationally,^  and 
that  with  such  success  that,  at  the  age  of  eleven,  it  is  said, 
on  the  authority  of  his  son,  young  Ashley  could  read  both 
languages  with  ease.  During  part  of  this  time,  the  governess 
and  her  pupil  were  established  in  a  separate  house  at 
Clapham.  At  the  age  of  eleven,  Anthony  Ashley  was  sent 
to  a  private  school,  where  he  remained  till  his  grandfather^s 
death.  In  November,  1688,  some  months  after  that  event, 
"  his  father  carried  him  to  Winchester,^'  and  entered  him 
there  as  a  Warden's  boarder.  In  addition  to  the  rough 
manners,  which  were  common  to  the  English  public  schools 
at  that  time,  and  which  must  have  been  specially  repulsive 
to  a  shy,  retiring  boy,  like  young  Ashley,  both  masters  and 
boys  seem  to  have  been  addicted  to  hard  drinking.*  His 

^  See  Locke's  Thoughts  concerning  Education^  §§  162,  163. 

^  A  deplorable  account  of  the  school  is  given  in  a  letter  written  by 


6 


SHAFTESBURY. 


residence  at  Winchester,  however,  was  prenaaturely  cut  short 
The  boys  appear  to  have  taunted  him  with  the  opinions  and 
fate  of  his  grandfatlier,  and,  rendered  miserable  by  this 
treatment,  he  left  school  in  1G86  for  a  course  of  foreign 
travel.  His  new  tutor  was  Mr.  Daniel  Denoue,  a  Scotchman, 
'a  very  ing-enious  honest  person,''  and  his  travelling-com- 
panions Sir  John  Cropley  (with  whom  he  kept  up  an 
uninterrupted  friendship  to  the  end  of  his  life)  and  Mr. 
Thomas  Sclater  Bacon.  This  change  was  probably  fortunate 
for  his  mental  development,  as  he  was  thus  brought  into 
direct  contact  with  those  artistic  and  classical  associations 
which  afterwards  exercised  so  marked  an  influence  on  his 
character  and  opinions.  "My  Father,"  says  the  Fourtli  Earl, 
"spent  a  considerable  time  in  Italy,  where  he  acquired  a 
great  knowledge  in  the  Polite  Arts.  That  he  had  a  sound 
judgment  in  Painting  the  treatises  he  wrote  on  that  subject 
plainly  evince.  He  understood  Sculpture  also  extremely  well, 
and  could  himself  design  to  some  degree  of  perfection.  Of 
the  rudiments  of  Music  too  he  was  not  ignorant,  and  his 
thoughts  concerning  it  have  been  approved  by  the  greatest 
masters  in  that  science.  He  made  it  his  endeavour,  while 
abroad,  to  apply  himself  as  much  as  possible  to  the  improving 
those  accomplishments,  and  for  that  reason  did  not  greatly 
seek  the  conversation  of  otlier  English  young  gentlemen  on 
their  travels.""  A  youth  on  his  travels,  who  had  imbibed 
Shaftesbury's  tastes,  would  probably,  not  even  now,  be  much 
attracted  by  the  society  and  conversation  of  his  contem- 
poraries, and  the  English  public-school  education  of  those 
days  probably  left  fewer  traces  of  culture,  and  inspired  boys 

Lord  Asliley  to  his  father,  on  what  seemed  to  be  the  hopeless  case  of  his 
brother  Maurice,  in  July,  1G89.  A  copy  of  tlie  letter  is  contained  in  an 
Entry  Book,  marked  No.  2,  in  Bundle  22  of  the  Shaftesbury  Papers  iu 
the  Kecord  Olfice. 


LIFE  AND  CHARACTER. 


7 


less  with  the  love  of  letters^  than  it  does  even  in  our  own. 
But  what  Shaftesbury  (or,  as  I  ought  rather  to  call  him  at 
this  period  of  his  life,  Lord  Ashley)  failed  to  find  among  the 
young  men  of  his  own  age,  he  seems  to  have  been  fortunate 
enough  to  meet  with  amongst  their  tutors.  With  them, 
even  when  he  could  not  learn  anything  from  them,  he  could 
at  least  converse  on  congenial  topics.  It  must  not,  however, 
be  inferred  from  this  account  that  young  Ashley  was  what 
we  should  now  call  a  milksop  or  a  prig.  "  His  learning,'''' 
says  his  son,  speaking  of  a  somewhat  later  period  in  his  life, 
"  though  very  extensive,  was  of  an  ingenious  gentleman-like 
sort,  without  any  mixture  of  pedantry  or  conceit.''^  He 
spoke  French  so  fluently,  and  with  so  perfect  an  accent,  that, 
in  France,  he  was  often  mistaken  for  a  native ;  "  and  the  .ease 
and  agility  he  showed  in  performing  those  exercises,  in  which 
that  nation  excel,  contributed  to  the  leading  them  into  that 
opinion/' 

In  1689,  the  year  after  the  Revolution,  Lord  Ashley 
returned  to  England,  and  might  at  once  have  been  returned 
to  Parliament  for  one  of  those  boroughs  in  which  his  family 
had  an  interest  ^  He  preferred,  however,  for  the  present,  to 
devote  himself  to  study,  and,  for  nearly  five  years  from  this 
time,  he  appears  to  have  led  a  quiet,  uneventful,  and  studious 
life.  There  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  greater  part  of  his 
attention  was  directed  to  the  perusal  of  those  classical  authors, 
and  to  the  attempt  to  realize  the  true  spirit  of  that  classical 
antiquity,  for  which  he  had  conceived  so  ardent  a  passion. 

*  It  was  not  till  a  few  years  later  that  an  Act  of  Parliament  (7  and  8 
Will.  IH,  c.  25,  s.  8)  was  passed,  disqualifyin,^  minors  from  being  elected 
to  the  House  of  Commons.  Even  after  this  time,  however,  they  some- 
times sat  by  connivance,  as,  for  instance,  Charles  James  Fox  for  Mid- 
hurst  and  Lord  John  Eussell  for  Tavistock.  See  Sir  Erskine  May's  Law 
of  Parliament, 


8 


SHAFTESBURY. 


Perhaps  no  modern/'  says  Toland  in  his  Introduction, 
"  ever  turned  the  Ancients  more  into  sap  and  blood,  as  they 
say,  than  he.  Their  doctrines  he  understood  as  well  as  them- 
selves, and  their  virtues  he  practised  better/'  He  hi.d  no 
intention,  however,  of  becoming  a  recluse,  or  of  permanently 
holdinf^  himself  aloof  from  public  life.  "  But  he  admired  in 
them  nothing  so  much,''  proceeds  Toland,  ''as  that  Love  of 
one's  Country,  that  passion  for  true  Freedom,  which  they 
perpetually  inspire,  and  of  which  they  afford  such  numerous 
examples."  Accordingly,  on  the  death  of  Sir  John  Trenchard 
the  member  for  Poole,  he  availed  himself  of  the  opportunity 
of  entering  Parliament,  and  was  returned  for  that  borough. 
May  21,  1095.  This  Parliament  was  dissolved  in  October 
of  the  same  year,  but  Lord  Ashley  was,  as  a  matter  of  course, 
again  returned  for  Poole  in  the  new  Parliament  which  met 
in  November.  He  soon  found  occasion  for  asserting  that 
"  passion  for  true  freedom,'*  of  which  Toland  speaks  in  con- 
nexion with  his  study  of  the  classics.  The  Bill  for  regulating 
Trials  in  cases  of  Treason,  which  had  been  dropped,  in  con- 
sequence of  differences  between  the  Lords  and  Commons,  in 
1691,  was  re-introduced  early  in  the  first  session  of  the  new 
Parliament.  One  of  its  provisions  was  that  a  person  indicted 
for  treason  or  misprison  of  treason  should  be  allowed  the 
assistance  of  Counsel.  Lord  Ashley  rose,  in  his  place  in  the 
House  of  Commons,  to  speak  in  favour  of  the  Bill.  But  so 
overcome  was  he  by  shyness  and  natural  modesty,  that, 
according  to  the  account  given  by  his  son,  he  "could  not 
utter  a  syllable  of  what  he  intended,  by  which  he  found  how 
true  Mr.  Lock's  caution  to  him  had  been  not  to  engage  at 
first  setting  out  in  an  undertaking  of  difficulty  but  to  rise  to 
it  gradually."^    He  soon  recovered  himself,  however,  suffi- 

*  Tliis  is  much  the  same  advice  wliich  Locke  subsequently  gave  to  his 
young  cousin,  Peter  King,  who  afterwards  became  Lord  King  and  Lord 


LIFE  AND  CHARACTER, 


9 


ciently  to  take  advantag'e  of  the  situation,  and,  with  more 
effect  than  it  he  had  made  the  most  eloquent  speech,  he  simply 
said,  hefore  sitting  down  :  "  If  1,  sir,  who  rise  only  to  speak  my 
opinion  on  the  bill  now  depending,  am  so  confounded,  that  I 
am  unable  to  express  the  least  of  what  I  proposed  to  say; 
what  must  the  condition  of  that  man  be,  who  is  pleading  for 
his  life  without  any  assistance  and  under  apprehensions  of 
being'  deprived  of  it?^"*  "The  sudden  turn  of  thought,''^ 
proceeds  the  Fourth  Earl,  which  by  some  was  imagined  to 
have  been  premeditated,  though  it  really  was  as  I  mentioned, 
pleased  the  House  extremely ;  and,  it  is  generally  believed, 
carried  a  greater  weight  than  any  of  the  arguments  which 
were  offered  in  favour  of  the  bill/^''  The  Bill  passed  the 
Commons  on  Dec.  18,  1695,  and,  after  the  insertion  of 
the  Lords'  Amendments,  was  at  length  agreed  to  by  the 
Upper  House.  Another  Bill,  in  which  Lord  Ashley  took  an 
interest,  was  one  imposing  a  property  qualification  on  Mem- 
bers of  Parliament,  and  incapacitating  electors  who  were  guilty 

Chancellor :  "  I  cannot  forbear  saying  this  much  to  you,  that  when  you 
first  open  your  mouth  at  the  bar,  it  should  be  in  some  easy  plain  matter 
that  you  are  perfectly  master  of."  Locke  to  King,  June  27,  1698, 
printed  in  Lord  Campbell's  Lives  of  the  Chancellors. 

7  This  story  is  told  of  Charles  Montague,  subsequently  Earl  of  Halifax, 
in  a  Life  of  Kali  fax  (p.  30),  published  in  1715,  and  is  repeated  of  him 
by  Johnson  in  the  Lives  of  the  Poets.  The  Fourth  Earl  does  not  seem 
to  be  aware  that  it  had  been  told  of  any  one  but  his  father,  but  Dr.  Birch 
adds  a  reference  to  the  Life  of  Halifax,  and  says  the  story  *'  has  been 
erroneously  related  of  that  Earl/'  If  we  may  judge  from  internal 
evidence,  it  is  far  more  appropriate  to  a  shy  and  retiring  man,  new  to 
Parliamentary  life,  like  Lord  Ashley,  than  to  a  practised  speaker  and 
debater,  like  Montague,  who  had  sat  in  the  House  of  Commons  from  the 
Convention  of  1688-9  onwards.  I  may  add  that  the  story  is  related 
with  much  detail  by  the  Fourth  Earl  of  his  father  ("he  had  prepared  a 
gpaech  which  those  he  showed  it  to  thought  a  very  proper  one  upon  the 
occasion,"),  and  that  in  Horace  Walpole's  Catalogue  of  Royal  and  Noble 
Authors  it  is  told  of  Shaftesbury  and  not  of  Halifax, 


10 


SHAFTESBURY, 


of  corrii})tion  or  trt'ating".  In  a  letter  to  Thomas  Stringer, 
who  had  been  his  grandfather's  steward,  dated  Feb.  15, 
1095  (that  is,  1G9S  N.S.),  he  complains  bitterly  of  the  party 
sj^irit  which  was  then  so  rampant  in  the  House,  and  of  the 
treatment  received  by  any  member  who  asserted  his  inde- 
pendence. "  You  could,  I  believe,  scarcely  imagine  with 
yourself,  who  these  are  in  the  world,  or  who  they  are  in  the 
House,  who  0]ipose  this  and  all  other  such  bills  as  this  might 
and  main ;  and  who  they  are  that  are  condemned  for  flying  ia 
the  face  of  the  government,  as  they  call  it,  by  being  for  such 
things  as  these  are,  and  pressing  such  hard  things  on  the 
prerogative  or  court.  In  short,  you  would  hardly  believe  that 
your  poor  friend,  that  now  writes  to  you,  has  sentence  (and 
bitter  sentence  too)  every  day  passing  upon  him,  for  going,  as 
you  may  be  sure  he  goes  and  ever  will  go  on  such  occasions  as 
these ;  whatever  party  it  be  that  is  in  or  out  at  court,  that  is 
in  possession  of  the  places  and  afraid  of  losing  their  daily 
bread  by  not  being  servile  enough,  or  that  are  out  of  places 
and  think,  by  crossing  the  court  and  siding  with  good  and 
popular  things  against  it,  to  get  into  those  places  of  profit 
and  management/'^  Throughout  this  Parliament,  Ashley 
seems  to  have-  adopted  a  thoroughly  independent  line  of 
action.  His  motto  was  emphatically  Measures  not  men."'' 
Though,  in  the  strictest  sense  of  the  term,  a  Whig,  alike  by 
descent,  by  education,  and  by  conviction,  he  was  always 
ready  to  support  any  measures,  from  whatever  quarter  they 
came,  whether  from  Somers  or  Montague,  or  from  Godolphin 
or  Harley,  provided  that  they  appeared  to  him  to  promote 
the  liberty  of  the  subject  and  the  independence  of  Parlia- 
ment. Hence,  in  the  tangled  politics  of  that  age,  when  each 
party  was  often  taking  the  side  which,  from  its  antecedents, 
might  least  be  expected,  he  could  never,  apparently,  be 
*  Ashley  to  Stringer,  first  published  in  tlie  General  Dictionary, 


LIFE  AND  CHARACTER, 


II 


reckoned  on  to  give  a  party  vote.  Of  course,  he  incurred  the 
displeasure  and  suffered  from  the  disparagement  of  those 
whom  he  opposed.  Toland,  speaking  of  the  ^'Apostate 
Whigs/*  who  "could  not  endure  him/^  says:  "They  gave 
out  that  he  was  splenetic  and  melancholy ;  whimsical  and 
eaten  up  with  vapours :  whereas  he  was  in  reality  just  the 
reverse,  naturally  cheerful  and  pleasant,  ever  steady  in  his 
principles,  and  the  farthest  in  the  world  from  humoursome  or 
fantastical."  "They  gave  out  that  he  was  too  bookish, 
because  not  given  to  play,  nor  assiduous  at  court ;  that  he 
was  no  good  companion,  because  not  a  rake  nor  a  hard 
drinker,  and  that  he  was  no  man  of  the  world,  because  not 
selfish  nor  open  to  bribes."  According  to  the  same  authority, 
who  is  here  supported  by  independent  testimony,  ^Hhe  prin- 
cipal heads  which  offended  him''*  in  the  action  of  many  of 
his  old  friends,  called  by  Toland  "the  Apostate  Whigs,'-* 
were  "their  opposing  the  Bill  for  Triennial  Parliaments,  that 
for  regulating  trials  in  cases  of  High  Treason,  that  for  ascer- 
taining the  Judges'  Commissions  and  Salaries,  that  for 
qualifying  Members  of  Parliament  by  estates  in  land  and 
excluding  them  from  offices  and  pensions,  that  for  reducing 
the  standing  forces,  and  some  other  bills  of  -the  like  nature, 
either  explaining  or  restraining  the  Prerogative.*''  At  a  time 
when  the  newly  established  order  in  Church  and  State  was 
safe  neither  from  foes  without  nor  foes  within,  it  is  not  so 
plain  that  those  who  were  shy  of  restraining  the  Royal 
Prerogative,  of  increasing  the  independence  of  Parliament, 
and  of  multiplying  the  occasions  for  changing  the  public  policy, 
were  actuated  solely  by  motives  of  sycophancy  or  corruption. 
There  were  many  cross-currents  in  the  politics  of  those  years, 
and,  perhaps,  the  pilot  who  seemed  to  pursue  a  vacillating 
course  might  not  unreasonably  claim  the  favourable  judgment 
of  his  contemporaries.    But  that  Lord  Ashley,  who  was  pro- 


12 


SHAFTESBURY. 


bably  able  to  see  great  issues  and  to  realise  leading*  principles 
more  readily  than  he  was  to  enter  into  the  ever-shifting  com- 
plications of  practical  politics,  acted  in  perfect  good  f  aith,  and 
was  inspired  solely  by  an  ardent  desire  for  the  public  interests, 
there  can  be  no  doubt.'  Unfortunately,  his  health  was  so 
trea(;lu'rous  that,  on  the  Dissolution  in  July,  169S,  he  was 
obliged  to  retire  from  Parliamentary  life.  "  The  fatigues  of 
attending  regularly  upon  the  service  of  the  House  (which  in 
those  active  times  generally  sat  long  as  well  as  upon  Com- 
mittees at  night)  in  a  few  years  so  impaired  my  Father''s 
health,  who  was  not  of  a  robust  constitution,  that  he  was 
obliged  to  decline  coming  again  into  Parliament  on  tiie  Disso- 
lution in  IGOS/^^  "He  was  in  some  little  time,"  says 
Toland,  *^  from  one  of  the  healthiest  and  most  sprightly  young 
noblemen  in  England,  so  violently  seized  with  an  asthma, 
that  he  could  with  great  difficulty  endure  the  fatigue  of 
Parliamentary  attendance ;  and  at  last  could  not  bear  with  the 
smoke  of  London,  which  suffocated  him  to  such  a  degree  that 
he  was  forced  to  quit  even  the  neighbourhood  of  it.'^  Those 
who  are  acquainted  with  the  events  of  Locke's  life  will  recollect 
that  he  too,  shortly  after  his  return  to  England,  had  been 
obliged  to  retire  from  London,  in  consequence  of  the  "})esti- 
lent  smoke  of  this  city,''  and  that  he  too,  like  his  pu|)il, 
suflered  from  asthma.^    Many  are  the  subsequent  complaints 

8  In  the  rough  draft,  thouj^h  not  in  the  fair  copy,  of  the  Life  by  the 
Fourth  Earl,  occurs  the  I'olluwint^  paragraph  :  "  ISeveral  gentlemen  in  the 
House  of  Commons,  who  were  of  the  same  sentiments  with  my  father, 
formed  a  little  society  by  the  name  of  the  Independent  Club,  of  which  he 
was  a  member  and  had  the  chief  hand  in  setting  up,  but  this  club  was  of 
no  long  duration." 

MS;  Life  by  the  Fourth  Earl. 

^  See  Locke's  Letter  to  Limborch,  March  12,  1GS9 ;  my  Locke  in 
English  Men  of  Letters^  p.  66,  or  Mr.  Fox-Bourne's  Life  of  Locke, 
vol.  ii.  p.  150. 


LIFE  AND  CHARACTER. 


13 


of  Shiiftesbiiry  about  the  ''town-smoke/^  and  the  east  winds 
which  carried  it  as  far  as  his  "  little  house at  Chelsea.^ 
The  smoke  of  London  seems  to  have  been  more  oppressive  in 
those  days  than  even  in  our  own,  or  perhaps  it  is  an  affliction 
whicli  we  have  learnt  to  bear  more  patiently  than  oui 
ancestors. 

Lord  Ashley,  however,  was  able  for  a  time  to  escape  both 
from  the  smoke  of  the  city  and  from  the  troubled  waters  of 
English  politics.  My  Father  being-  then  released  from  the 
confinement  of  the  House  was  at  liberty  to  spend  his  time 
wherfiver  it  was  most  agreeable  to  him ;  he  went  directly  into 
Holland,  where  he  became  acquainted  with  several  learned 
and  ingenious  men  who  resided  in  that  country,  which  in- 
duced him  to  continue  there  about  a  twelvemonth.''''  Amongst 
the  '*  learned  and  ingenious  men  with  whom  he  became 
acquainted,  or  whose  acquaintance  he  renewed  (for  a  letter 
written  to  Furly,  June  27,  1691,*  commending  to  his  care  his 
brother  Maurice,  proves  that  he  had  himself  passed  through 
Holland  on  his  travels  as  a  youth),  were  Le  Clerc  (Joannes 
Clericus),  the  philosopher,  theologian,  and  critic,  who  was 
now  engaged^ in  editing  the  Bibliotlteque  Universelle,  one  of 
the  earliest  literary  and  scientific  reviews ;  Bayle,  then  a  Pro- 
fessor at  Rotterdam,  subsequently  the  author  of  the  celebrated 
dictionary  which  bears  his  name;  Benjamin  Furly,  the  Eng- 
lish quaker  merchant,  at  whose  house  Locke  had  resided 
during  his  stay  in  Rotterdam,  and  who  was  always  so  ready  to 
show  kindness  and  hospitality  to  his  countrymen  sojourning 
in  Holland;  and  probably  Limborch  and  the  rest  of  the  lite- 
rary circle  of  which  Locke  had  been  a  cherished  and  honoured 

•  See,  for  instance,  the  letters  to  Molesworth. 

■*  See  Original  Letters,  2nd  ed.,  p.  51',  but  the  letter  is  there  wrongly 
dated.  The  original  of  this  letter  is  amongst  the  Shaftesbury  Papers  in 
the  Record  Office  (Bundle  20,  No.  3). 


14 


SHAFTESBURY. 


member  nine  or  ten  years  before.  To  Lord  Ashley  this  society 
was  probably  far  more  con^^enial  than  the  aristocratic  and 
political  surroundinf^s  which  he  had  left  behind  him  in 
Ent^-land.  Unrestrained  conversation  on  the  topics  which 
most  interested  him — philosophy,  politics,  morals,  relif^ion — 
was  at  this  time  to  be  had  in  Holland  with  less  (lani^i-er  and  in 
greater  abundance  than  in  any  other  country  in  the  world.  It 
is  to  this  period,  in  all  probability,  that  we  must  refer  a  story 
told  of  him  and  Bayle.^  Lord  Ashley,  as  he  would  then 
be,  if  I  am  right  in  referrinfj^  the  story  to  this  visit,  had  con- 
cealed his  name  and  title,  passing*  himself  off  as  a  student  in 
Physic,  in  order  that  he  might  pursue  his  literary  avocations 
with  the  greater  freedom.  Towards  the  end  of  his  stay, 
however,  he  wished  to  be  known  to  Bayle  under  his  real  name, 
and  requested  Furly,  who  was  in  the  secret,  to  invite  them 
both  to  dinner.  Bayle  received  a  formal  invitation  to  meet 
Lord  Ashley.  On  the  morning  of  the  day  fixed  for  the  party, 
he  accidentally  called  upon  his  friend,  the  medical  student,  and 
was  pressed  to  stay.  It  was  impossible  for  him  to  do  so,  he 
said,  "  for  I  must  be  punctual  to  an  engagement  where  I  am 
to  meet  my  Lord  Ashley "  The  second  interview,'^  proceeds 
the  Fourth  Earl,  "caused  some  mirth,  and  their  intimacy  was 
rather  increased  than  lessened  after  the  discovery ;  for  they 

*  The  Fourth  Lord  tells  this  story  in  connoxion  with  his  father's  vi>it 
to  Holland  in  1703-4,  but,  after  the  pro]on<;e  1  visit  in  1G08-9,  Shaftes- 
bury must  have  been  too  well  known,  at  all  events  within  his  own  circle, 
to  have  passed  off,  a  second  time,  under  an  assumed  name.  Even  liad 
not  his  name  and  rank  become  known  in  1G99,  they  were  almost  certain 
to  transpire  within  the  three  or  four  years  which  elapsed  between  the  two 
visits.  Moreover,  in  one  of  his  letters  to  Furly  (dated  Jan.  30,  1701-2), 
contained  amongst  the  Shaftesbury  Papers,  he  says  expressly  :  *'  I 
received  lately  a  present  from  Mr.  Bayle  of  his  Dict'ionarii ;  for 
which  pray  return  him  my  humble  thanks.  I  shall  do  it  myself  in  a 
post  or  two."  lu  the  General  Dictionary,  the  story  is  assigned  to  the 
earlier  visit. 


LIFE  AND  CHARACTER, 


15 


never  ceased  a  correspondence  tog-ether  after  my  Father's 
return  to  Monsieur  Bayle's  death/''  ^  To  the  period  of  this 
visit  to  Holland  must  also  probably  be  referred  the  surrep- 
titious impression  or  publication,  during  his  absence,  of  an 
imperfect  edition  of  the  Inquiry  concerning  Virtue.  "  During- 
my  Father's  stay  in  Holland  "  (though  here  again  the  Fourth 
Earl  refers  the  event  to  the  third  visit),  *^  an  imperfect  edition 
of  his  Inquiry  after  Virtue  was  printed'  surreptitiously, 
taken  from  a  rough  draught,  sketched  when  he  was  but 
twenty  years  of  age.  He  was  greatly  chagrined  at  this,  and 
immediately  bought  up  the  whole  impression  before  many  of 
the  books  were  sold,  and  set  about  completing  the  treatise 
which  he  published  himself  not  long  after.^  The  person  who 
treated  him  so  unhandsomely  he  soon  discovered  to  be  Mr. 
Toland,  who  made  this  ungrateful  return  for  the  favours  he 
had  received  from  him.  For  my  Father  then  allowed  him 
(at  his  earnest  importunity)  an  annual  stipend,  though  he 
never  had  any  great  opinion  of  him.  In  this  manner  my 
Father  frequently  bestowed  pensions  on  men  of  learning  who 

«  Des  Maiseaux,  in  his  Life  of  Bayle  prefixed  to  the  Dictionary,  repre- 
sents Shaftesbury  as  intervening  on  Bayle's  behalf,  in  1706,  with  Lord 
Sunderland,  who  suspected  him  of  maintaining  communications  with  the 
French  Government,  and  who  seems  to  have  been  on  the  point  of  asking 
for  his  expulsion  from  Holland. 

'  In  the  rough  draft  of  the  Ijife,  the  word  "published''  is  struck  out, 
and  the  word  "printed"  inserted.  In  the  General  Dictionary  (the 
account  in  which  was  seen  and  corrected  by  the  Fourth  Earl),  the  im- 
pression or  publication  of  this  imperfect  edition  is  referred  to  Lord 
Ashley's  absence  from  England  in  1698-9.  In  the  First  Edition  of  the 
Characteristics  (1711),  the  Inquiry  is  described  as  "printed  first  in 
1699,"  and  "formerly  printed  from  an  imperfect  copy;  now  corrected  and 
published  intire."  I  have  not  been  able  to  see  any  copy  of  Toland's 
edition,  or  to  find  any  mention  of  it  in  a  Catalogue. 

'  As  the  complete  edition  did  not  appear  till  1711,  this  statement  pro- 
ceeds on  what  is  probably  the  false  impression  of  the  Fourth  Earl  as  to 
the  date  of  Toland's  edition. 


i6 


SHAFTESBURY. 


stood  in  need  of  such  assistance,  and  <^ave  sums  of  money 
besides  to  those  whom  by  experience  he  found  deserving/' 
Of  Toland's  character,  and  of  Shaf^^esbury's  generosity  to 
strng^^-ling  men  of  letters,  I  shall  have  other  opportunities  of 
speaking. 

Lord  Ashley  returned  to  England  after  an  absence  of  over 
a  twelvemonth,  and  on  Nov.  10,  10*.)9,  not  long  after  his 
return,  he  succeeded  to  the  title  of  Earl  of  Sliaftesbury  by  the 
death  of  his  fatlier.  For  some  time  he  was  occupied  with 
arranging  his  private  and  family  affairs,  to  which  he  always 
appears  to  have  devoted  exemplary  attention.  He  took  his 
seat,  however,  in  the  House  of  Lords,  Jan.  19,  1699-1700, 
and  attended  with  tolerable  regularity  during  the  rest  of  the 
session."  Parliament  was  dissolved  on  the  19th  of  December, 
1700,  and  the  General  Election,  which  ensued,  was  the  occa- 
sion of  a  fierce  contest  between  the  Whigs  and  Tories. 
Shaftesbury,  who,  of  course,  exerted  his  influence  on  the 
Whig  side,  though  he  acknowledged  that  the  Whigs  had 
in  recent  years  "  been  shameful  in  their  over  great  condescen- 
sions to  the  Court,"  and  by  this  conduct  had  "  lost  their 
interest  much  in  the  country,"  ^  took  a  very  active  part  in 
the  elections  of  his  own  neighbourhood.  We  are  now  in 
the  midst  of  our  elections,"  he  writes  to  Furly,  Jan.  11, 
1700-1,^  "of  which  the  West  of  England  having  much  the 
greatest  share,  and  I  being  here  placed  with  my  fortune  and 
all  my  interest,  you  may  imagine  I  am  not  a  little  solicitous 
at  this  time  of  danger,  having  explained  to  you  the  extremity 

'  Journals  of  the  House  of  Lords.  The  statements  in  the  General 
Dicl'ionary  and  in  the  Life  by  the  Fourth  Earl,  that  he  did  not  attend 
the  House  durinf^  this  session,  are  disproved  by  the  Lords'  Journals. 

*  Original  Letters.  Shaftesbury  to  Furly,  Nov.  15,  1700.  Shaftes- 
bury Papers,  Bundle  20,  No.  15. 

«  Original  Letters.    Shaftesbury  Papers,  Bundle  20,  No.  63. 


LIFE  AND  CHARACTER. 


17 


of  our  affairs  by  tliese  rasli  counsels  for  a  dissolution  at  this 
conjuncture,  which  I  am  satislied  the  King*  ere  this  is  fully 
convinced  was  a  wrong*  measure,  enoug-h  to  ruin  ns  all.^'  He 
hopes,  however,  that  ^Hhe  whole  f  orce  of  the  new  Tory  Ministry 
will  not  be  able  to  create  a  'Tory  Parliament;^'  ^*  though/^  he 
adds,  "  it  \vill  come  very  near.''  Shaftesbury,  as  we  have 
seen,  had  no  scruple  in  asserting*  his  indepinidence  on  indi- 
vidual measures^  by  whichever  side  they  might  be  introduced, 
but  there  can  be  no  doubt  as  to  his  general  loyalty  to 
his  party.  "The  only  thing  to  be  hoped  and  prayed  for," 
he  proceeds  in  the  same  letter,  "is  that  the  Tory  party 
may  not  be  superior :  for,  if  but  ever  so  little  inferior, 
their  numbers  will  be  of  service  rather  than  of  injury  :  for, 
as  it  is  said  of  water  or  fire,  so  it  may  be  said  of  them,  that 
they  are  good  servants,  but  ill  masters;  and,  as  by  principles 
they  are  slaves,  so  they  are  only  serviceable  when  they  are 
kept  so.''  "  Let  our  friends  in  Holland  know  their  friends 
here,  and  take  notice  that  it  is  that  party  that  hate  the  Dutch 
and  love  France,  and  the  Whigs  the  only  contrary  party  that 
can  now  save  them  and  England." 

Shaftesbury's  hopes  were  disappointed,  and  the  new  House 
of  Commons,  which  met  on  the  6th  of  February,  1700-1, 
contained  a  large  majority  of  Tories.  The  Journals  of  the 
House  of  Lords  show  that  Shaftesbury  was  peculiarly 
regular  in  his  attendance  throughout  this  session,  and  indeed 
there  were  personal  as  well  as  party  reasons  why  he  should  be 
so.  What  is  known  as  the  Second  Treaty  of  Partition,  which 
had  been  concluded  between  England,  Holland,  and  France 
in  March  1700,  had  been  divulged  in  the  summer  of  this  year, 
and  the  general  discontent,  which  it  excited  not  only  amongst 
the  Tories  but  also  amon^  st  several  of  the  Whigs,  had 
undoubtedly  contributed  to  the  Tory  success  in  the  general 
election.    The  new  House  of  Commons  attempted  to  gratify 

c 


i8 


SHAFTESBURY, 


its  resentment  \)y  impeacliin^  not  only  the  ]']arl  of  Portland, 
who  had  taken  an  active  part  in  ne<40tiating  the  treaty,  but 
also  the  late  ministers,  Admiral  Russell,  now  Earl  of  Orford, 
Charles  ^lonta^^ue,  now  Lord  Halifax,  and  Lord  Somers, 
whose  share  in  the  matter  seems  to  have  been  limited  to  a 
reluctant  acquiescence  or  to  mere  privity.  And,  not  content 
with  impeachinf^-  them,  they  presented  an  address  to  the  King", 
asking'  him  to  remove  them  from  his  councils  and  presence 
for  ever.  The  Lords  presented  a  counter-address,  praying 
that  the  King  would  be  pleased  to  pass  no  censure  or  punish- 
ment upon  the  Lords  impeached,  during"  the  dependence  of 
the  impeachment,  Shaftesbury  being  placed  on  the  Committee 
for  drawing  up  the  address.  The  business  of  the  impeach- 
ments occupied  a  considerable  time,  but  at  last  fell  through 
altogether,  in  the  month  of  June,  from  the  failure  of  the 
Commons  to  appear  in  support  of  their  charges.  Shaftesbury 
was,  no  doubt,  loyal  to  his  friends  and  his  party  throui^hout 
these  proceedings.  The  result  of  the  im})eachments  must 
have  been  a  great  triumph  to-  the  Whigs,  and  it  contributed, 
together  with  the  g-rowing  jealousy  of  France,  to  which  the 
existing  ministry  was  supposed  to  be  partial,  to  discredit  the 
Tory  majority  in  the  lower  house.  Foreign  affairs  had  taken 
a  curious  turn  since  the  conclusion  of  the  Second  Partition 
Treaty.  Charles  the  Second,  King*  of  Spain,  the  succession 
to  whose  dominions  had  been  so  unceremoniously  parcelled 
out  by  the  three  powers,  died  on  the  1st  o  November,  1700. 
Philip  Duke  of  Anjou,  second  son  ot  the  Dauphin,  was  named 
in  his  will  as  heir  to  the  undivided  Spanish  Monarchy,  and, 
failing"  him,  Charles  Archduke  of  Austria.  The  temptation 
was  too  strong  for  Louis  the  Fourteenth,  and,  notwithstanding 
the  recent  treaty,  he  accepted  tlie  throne  for  his  grandson. 
Of  course,  the  ]5alance  of  Power  was  now  completely  changed. 
Not  long  after  the  meeting  of  the  English  Parliament  io 


LIFE  AND  CHARACTER. 


Febnuny  1700-1,  a  messn^-e  was  conveyed  to  the  House  of 
Lords  that  the  States  General  liad  Celt  themselves  obliged  to 
acknowledge  the  title  of  the  Duke  of  Anjou,  without  any 
conditions.  This  necessity  was  laid  upon  them  by  the  fact 
that  Louis  had  adroitly  turned  out  the  Dutch  garrisons  which 
manned  the  border  fortresses  of  the  Spanish  Netherlands,  and 
had  replaced  them  by  French  troops.  William  made  overtures 
to  France  for  an  accommodation,  but  in  vain.  The  result  was 
the  conclusion  of  a  new  alliance  at  the  Hague,  on  the  7th  of 
September,  between  England,  Holland,  and  the  Emperor. 
This  is  known  in  history  as  the  Grand  Alliance.  Onl}^  nine 
days  afterwards  (Sept.  16,  1701),  James  the  Second  died  at 
St.  Germains,  and  Louis,  in  spite  of  the  treaty  of  Ryswick, 
acknowledged  his  son  as  James  the  Third,  King  of  England. 
The  King  of  France  had  thus  offered  an  affront  which  neither 
William  nor  the  English  nation  could  tolerate,  and  a  war  had 
now  become  inevitable.  But  the  prospect  of  a  war  with 
France  and  the  possibility  of  a  Jacobite  invasion  soon  turned 
the  tide  against  the  Tories  and  in  favour  of  the  Whigs.  Both 
the  king  and  the  nation  were  weary  of  the  Tory  ministry, 
and,  on  November  11,  Parliament  was  dissolved,  in  the  hopes 
that  a  Wliig  majority,  zealous  for  a  French  War  and  the 
Protestant  Succession,  Would  be  returned.  Nor  were  these 
hopes  disappointed.  The  City  of  London  set  the  example, 
and  the  nation  at  large  responded  by  returning  a  working 
majority,  ready  to  support  a  Whig  policy.  To  this  result^ 
and  all  that  he  conceived  must  follow  from  it,  Shaftesbury 
had  for  some  months  been  looking  forward  with  eager  ex- 
pectation. Writing  to  Furly  on  the  4th  of  the  previous 
March,  he  says  :  "  No  French  King  of  Spain  is  a  plain  course, 
as  plain  as  No  King  James,  no  owning  a  Prince  of  Wales,  no 
Popery  nor  Slavery.'*  The  People  of  England  will  (if  the 
Court  will  let  them)  engage  in  a  war,  and  never  yield  nor 

c  % 


20 


SHAFTESBURY. 


hear  of  yieldinf^  wliilst  France  is  to  have  anything];'  to  do 
with  Spain/'  On  the  1st  of  April,  he  says  :  "  I,  who  am 
naturally  so  inactive,  am  working  day  and  night  for  the 
common  interest  of  Holland  and  this  country.''  On  the 
15th/ he  hopes  that  '^this  session  will  be  the  last  of  this 
Parliament,"  and  "  doubts  not  but  the  Tories  will  so  work 
that  the  King"  will  be  glad  to  be  rid  of  them,  and  will  be  so, 
soon  after  the  Parliament  rises  ;  for  England  cannot  have 
justice  till  this  Parliament  be  dissolved/'  The  distrust  of  the 
King,  expressed  at  the  end  of  this  letter,  is  remarkable  :  He 
might  do  everything,  had  he  resolution.  The  spirit  of  the 
people  is  greater  and  greater.  They  do  not  betray  the 
common  cause  nor  themselves,  but,  if  he  betray  himself,  what 
can  we  say  or  do?''  Just  before  Parliament  rose,  he  writes 
(June  20)  :  "The  House  of  Commons  will  be  no  sooner  up, 
but  I  believe  all  England  will  be  ready  to  petition  the  King 
to  dissolve  them."  Subsequently,  he  began  to  complain  of 
the  King's  delay,  and  even  despaired  of  the  Dissolution  taking 
place.  He  foresees  (Sept.  15)  inevitable  ruin,  if  the  King 
resolves  again  to  meet  this  unhappy  Parliament."  When,  at 
last,  the  much  wished-for  Dissolution  came,  Shaftesbury 
exerted  himself  to  the  utmost,  and  with  the  most  marked 
success.  Writing  to  Furly,  Dec.  29,  just  after  the  elections 
were  over,  he  says  :  "  I  had  the  strongest  obligation  on  earth 
upon  me  to  act  with  vigour,  as  I  have  done,  since  the 
opportunity  the  King  has  most  happily  given  us.  And  it 
has  pleased  Providence  to  bless  me  with  great  success.  For, 
having  my  province  (and  that  a  very  hard  one)  in  two 
counties  long  in  the  hands  of  the  most  inveterate  of  the 
adverse  party,  I  notwithstanding  carried  all  that  I  attempted 
in  both.    In  one  of  them  (viz.  Wilts),  which  my  brother" 

*  This  letter  (No.  22  in  Bundle  20  of  Shaftesbury  Papers)  is  wrongly 
dated  in  Original  Letters. 


LIFE  AND  CHARACTER. 


21 


[Maurice  Ashley]  "  and  his  friend  represent  instead  of  two 
inveterate  Tories,  we  have  there  mended  the  elections  by  8, 
which  is  a  difference  of  16  in  Parliament  j  and  in  Dorsetshire 
(my  own  county)  we  have  g-ained  also  considerably/'  His 
friend  Sir  John  Cropley  was  brought  in  for  Shaftesbury, 
*^  which  was  ever  entirely  in  their  hands  since  my  Grand- 
father's death,  but  which  I  have  now  entirely  recovered  and 
made  zealous/'  He  adds  :  as  a  token  that  the  King  himself 
is  right  as  we  would  wish,  he  yesterday  gave  me  most  hearty 
thanks  for  my  zeal  and  good  services  on  this  occasion,  and 
this  before  much  company/'  The  Fourth  Earl  informs  us 
that  "the  King  told  "  his  Father  ''that  he  had  turned  the 
scale,  and  my  Father  after  this  was  so  well  approved  of  by  the 
King  that  he  had  the  offer  of  being  Secretary  of  State,  which 
his  declining  constitution  would  not  allow  him  to  a(;cept 
but,  although  he  was  disabled  from  engaging  in  such  a  course 
of  business,  he  was  not  from  giving  the  King  his  advice,  who 
frequently  consulted  him  on  matters  of  the  highest  im- 
portance/' On  Dec.  30  the  houses  met,  and  on  Dec.  31  the 
King  made  the  famous  speech,  which  sent  a  thrill  of  en- 
thusiasm throughout  the  nation,  and  which  was  afterwards 
printed  in  French,  Dutch,  and  English,  framed,  and  hung  up 
in  the  houses  of  sound  patriots  and  good  Protestants  through- 
out England  and  Holland.  In  this  speech  he  told  his 
Parliament,  if  they  were  not  wanting  to  themselves,  but 

*  In  a  memorandum  dated  July  9,  1703,  preserved  among  the  Shaftes- 
bury Papers  (Bundle  20,  No.  73),  Shaftesbury  hinnself  writes:  "  My  zeal 
for  the  devolution  and  the  late  King's  cause  made  me  active  for  the 
support  of  that  Government  and  for  the  establishment  of  the  Protestant 
Succession ;  and  it  was  my  good  fortune  to  have  my  services  well  thought 
of  by  the  King  and  acknowledged  by  him  with  great  favour.  I  had  the 
honour  of  many  offers  from  him;  but,  thinking  I  could  best  serve  him 
and  rriy  country  in  a  disinterested  station,  I  resolved  absolutely  against 
taking  any  employment  at  Court." 


22 


SHAFTESBURY, 


would  exert  the  ancient  vii^our  of  the  Enj>lish  nation,  they 
had  yet  the  0])portunity  of  securing  to  themselves  and  their 
posterity  the  quiet  enjoyment  of  their  reli<^'ion  and  liberties  ; 
he  conjured  them  to  disappoint  the  only  hopes  of  their 
enemies  by  their  unanimity  ;  he  declared  how  desirous  he  was 
of  showing  himself  the  common  father  of  all  his  people, 
and  he  entreated  them,  in  their  turn,  to  lay  aside  all  parties 
and  divisions.  "  Let  there  be  no  other  distinction  heard  of 
among  us,  for  the  future,  but  of  those  who  are  for  the 
Protestant  lleligion  and  the  present  Establishment;  and  of 
those  who  mean  a  Popish  Prince  and  a  French  Government." 
The  Fourth  Earl  says,  "it  was  pretty  well  known"  that  his 
father  had  the  greatest  share  in  composing  this  speech,  and 
Dr.  Birch  repeats  the  statement  in  the  General  Dictionary. 
Lord  Stanhope,  however,  and  Lord  Campbell  ascribe  its  com- 
position to  Somers,  and  Lord  IJardwicke  states  that  he 
recollects  seeing  a  draft  of  the  speech  among  Somers'  papers 
in  his  own  handwriting.'  Shaftesbury  and  Somers  seem 
always  to  have  been  intimate  friends,  and,  as  the  speech 
undoubtedly  expresses  the  sentiments  of  them  both,  they  may 
both  have  had  a  hand  in  composing  it.  On  the  2nd  of  January, 

1701-  2,  Shaftesbury  was  one  of  the  Committee  appointed  to 
draw  up  an  address  "to  assure  His  Majesty,  that  this  House 
will  stand  by  and  assist  him,  in  reducing  the  exorbitant 
power  of  France  and  settling  the  balance  of  Europe." 

With  the  connivance  of  some  of  the  Whigs,  Harley  had 
been  elected  Speaker  ot  the  new  House  of  Commons.  In  a 
letter  to  Furly,  dated  Jan.  80,  1701-2,*  Shaftesbury  says  of 

»  See  Miscellaneous  State  Papers,  edited  by  Lord  Ilardwicke, 
London,  1778.  Tlie  greater  part  of  Somers'  Manuscripts  was  destroyed 
by  a  fire  which  broke  out  at  Lincoln's  Inn  in  ]752. 

*  This  letter,  from  which  I  have  already  quoted,  is  wrongly  dated,  as 

1702-  3,  in  Original  Letters. 


LIFE  AND  CHARACTER. 


23 


him  :  "  R.  Harluy  is  ours  at  the  bottom.  I  cannot  call  him 
truly  a  Man  of  Virtue ;  for  then  he  had  not  been  lost  to  us 
by  any  disobliiii'ation  or  ill-usage,  which  he  has  had  sufficient. 
He  is  truly  what  is  called  in  the  world  a  Great  Man^  and  it  is 
by  him  alone  that  Party  has  raised  itself  to  such  a  greatness 

as  almost  to  destroy  us  But  I  believe  there  is  hopes 

of  gaining  him.  If  He  [meaning  the  King],  "  who  has  done 
so  much  to  divide  and  break  and  ruin  his  own  party  and 
friends,  will  but  do  half  so  much  to  piece  ^em  up  and  unite 
^em,  the  thing  will  be  easy,  and  the  cause  our  own.  This 
Gentleman  and  others  will  then  soon  come  over/*  In  a 
subsequent  letter  (Feb.  27),  however,  he  regards  Harley  as 
desperately  engaged  to  the  other  party. 
Had  the  King's  life  continued,  Shaftesbury^s  influence  at 
Court  would  probably  have  been  considerable,  but,  unfortu- 
nately for  the  prospects  of  the  Whigs,  William  died  on  the 
8th  of  March,  1701-2.  Though  no  change  was  made  in 
the  foreign  relations  of  the  kingdom,  Anne,  who  had  been 
taught  to  regard  the  Whig  party  with  abhorrence,  studiously 
excluded  its  leading  representatives  from  office  and  from 
court.  Somers  was  not  only  not  sworn  of  the  new  Privy 
Council,  but  his  name  was  even  struck  off  the  Commission  of 
the  Peace.  Shaftesbury  was  deprived  of  the  Vice- Admiralty  of 
Dorset,  which  had  been  in  the  family  for  three  successive 
generations  "This  slight/^  says  his  son,  "though  it  was 
a  matter  of  no  sort  of  consequence  to  my  Father,  was  the 
only  one  that  could  be  shown  him,  as  it  was  the  single  thing 
he  held  under  the  Crown.''  After  the  first  few  weeks  of  the 
new  reign,  Shaftesbury  returned  to  his  retired  mode  of  life, 
bub  his  letters  to  Furly  siiow  that  he  still  retained  a  keen 
interest  in  politics.  Though  he  calculates  that  the  Tory 
party  is  as  two  to  one  in  the  House  of  Commons  which  was 
elected  in  the  summer  of  ]  702,  he  declares  himself  not  dis- 


24 


SHAFTESBURY. 


heartened,  but  rejoie^s  to  hear  so  well  of  the  eause  of  liberty 
in  Holland.  He  must  be  cautious,  however^  iu  what  he 
says  (and  the  necessity,  or  supj)osed  necessity,  for  caution 
may  account  for  his  letters  to  Furly  now  becoming  less 
frequent),  "  for,  as  times  are  now  turning"  with  us,  we  must 
take  more  care  of  our  expressions  than  we  were  used/''  In 
November  of  this  year,  he  speaks  of  the  necessity  of  with- 
drawing from  public  affairs,  both  for  his  mind's  sake  and 
his  health's  sake,  "  because  my  efforts  in  time  of  extremity, 
for  this  last  year  or  two,  have  been  so  much  beyond  my 
strength  in  every  respect/''  The  house  at  St.  Giles'  seems 
to  have  been  broken  up  in  December,  1702,  and  Shaftesbury 
now  determined  on  paying  a  prohonged  visit  to  Holland, 
living  meanwhile  at  his  house  in  Chelsea.  He  was  detained 
in  England  for  some  time  by  the  arrangements  connected 
with  the  approaching  marriage  of  one  of  his  sisters,  ^'our 
law-affairs  being  most  dilatory/'  But  in  August  he  was 
at  length  ready  to  start.  His  health  was  now  mightily 
impaired  by  fatigues  in  the  public  affairs,"  and  he  was  very 
anxious  to  lead  a  quiet  and  retired  life.  Like  Locke,  he 
appears  to  have  had  great  faith  in  the  air  of  Holland,  and 
specially  of  Rotterdam,  which  is  'Mia[)pily  as  good  or  better 
than  any/'  He  was  not  disinclined  to  meet  a  friend 
occasionally  at  Furly 's  house,  but,  excepting  Furly  and 
his  family,  he  did  not  wish  to  have  any  callers  at  his 
lodgings,  "by  which  rule  I  kept  myself  so  easy  and  private 
the  last  time/'  There  was  a  difficulty,  however,  about  the 
])assage  ;  for  he  feared  "  nothing  so  much  as  falling  alive 
into  French  hands,"  and  "  our  Admiralty  affairs  grow  every" 
day  so  much  worse  as  yours  I  hope  grow  better."  ^  At 
Rotterdam    he  lived,  he  says  in  a  letter  to  his  steward 


»  Shaftesbury  to  Furly,  June  25,  1703. 


LIFE  AND  CHARACTER.  25 


AVheeloek/  at  the  rate  of  less  than  200^.  a  year,  and  yet 
had  much  ^*  to  dispose  of  and  spend  beyond  convenient 
living.'''  The  contrast  between  his  expenses  in  Holland 
and  at  St.  Giles'  seems  to  have  struck  him  forcibly.  Unless 
the  mass  of  gardens  and  housing*  can  be  brought  into  a 
cheaper  way  of  maintenance/'  he  will  neither  live  at  St. 
Giles',  nor  '^keep  in  repair  a. place  that  eats  up  the  estate 
belonging  to  it  and  makes  its  master  a  beggar."  It  appears 
that  Shaftesbury  returned  to  England,  much  improved  in 
health,  in  August,  1704.  During  his  absence  from  the 
House  of  Lords,  his  proxy  was  held,  at  least  for  a  time,  by 
Lord  Somers.^  Indeed,  after  his  return  from  Holland,  he 
seems  to  have  attended  Parliament  only  on  very  rare 
occasions.  Though  he  had  received  immediate  benefit  from 
his  stay  abroad,  symptoms  of  consumption  were  constantly 
alarming  him,  his  eyes  were  very  troublesome,  and  he 
gradually  became  a  confirmed  invalid.  His  occupations 
were  now  almost  exclusively  literary,  and,  from  this  time 
forwards,  he  was  probably  engaged  in  writing,  completing, 
or  revising  the  Treatises  which  were  afterwards  included  in 
the  Characteristics}  He  still  continued,  however,  to  take  a 
warm  interest  in  politics,  both  home  and  foreign,  and 
especially  in  the  war  against  France.  That  he  shared  to 
the  full  in  the  national  prejudices  against  the  French  is 
curiously  shown  in  a  letter  to  Arent  Furly,  a  son  of 
Mr.  Furly  and  a  great  favourite  of  Locke,  written  Feb. 
18,  1704-5:  "Whatever  flashes  may  now  and  then  appear, 
I  never  knew  one  single  Frenchman  a  free  man.    Nor  do 

8  Shaftesbury  to  Wheelock,  Dec.  18, 1703. 

•  Somers  to  Shaftesbury.    Shaftesbury  Papers,  Bundle  20,  No  87. 

'  Speaking  of  a  somewhat  later  period,  his  son  says  :  "  The  Jast  five 
years  of  my  father's  life  he  employed  himself  altogether  in  writing,  which 
was  his  principal  amusement."    Eough  Draft  of  lAfe, 


26 


SHAFTESBURY. 


I  iLink  it  in  nature  po.ssible,  if  tliey  have  early  sucked 
that  air,  or  been  bred,  though  in  foreign  nations,  amongst 
j)eoj)le  and  books  of  their  own  kind/^  Writing  to  the  same 
correspondent  on  Dec.  5,  1705,  he  says:  "Your  former  and 
latter  advices,  first  of  the  successful  attack,  and  next  of  the 
surrender  of  Barcelona''  [due  to  the  enterprise  of  the  Earl 
of  Peterborough  and  Sir  Cloudesley  Shovel],  with  the  whole 
progress  of  your  councils,  were  of  all  news  I  ever  received 
the  most  welcome/'  In  a  letter  to  Furly,  the  father, 
written  on  the  11th  of  October,  1706,  from  Hampstead, 
whither  he  had  retired  on  account  of  the  smoke  of  Chelsea, 
he  doubts  "whether  the  Whigs  and  Court,  joining  together, 
have  interest  enough  to  carry  their  main  point  in  Parliament, 
namely,  the  Union  with  Scotland,  without  which  we  shall  be 
in  great  confusion  because  of  the  Succession.''  The  Govern- 
mt^nt  and  the  Court,  he  acknowledges  in  this  letter,  are  every 
day  growing  better.  In  another  letter  to  Furly,  dated  St. 
Giles',  Dec.  1706,  he  speaks  of  the  "sad  prospect"  it  is 
"  for  either  nation,"  J^]ngland  and  Holland,  "  to  think  of  the 
fiiir  pros})ect  France  has  of  getting  such  a  part  of  Britain 
under  the  title  of  a  new  king,  which,  if  the  Queen's  death 
at  this  instant  should  fatally  happen,  I  scarce  see  how  it 

would  be  prevented  Nothing  in  truth  but  this 

happy  alliance  and  the  strong  friendship  between  us  and  the 
Dutch  can  save  this  blow."  Happily,  on  the  6th  of  March 
following  (1706-7),  the  Bill  for  uniting  the  two  kingdoms 
received  the  llo^al  Assent,  and  thus  became  law. 

Writing  to  Furly  on  March  26,  1708,  Shaftesbury  says 
that,  though  he  is  sure  he  has  no  partiality  "for  those  who 
are  called  our  ministry,"  yet  he  must  do  them  justice,  and  he 
thinks  that  "  they  deserve  far  better  of  their  country  and 
Holland,  iuid  particularly  of  their  sovereign,  than  as  they  are 
at  present  rated  by  some,  both  here  in  England  and  with 


LIFE  AND  CHARACTER. 


27 


you/'  At  this  timu  there  was  a  rapprochement  between 
Shaftesbury  and  Godolphin,  wliich  forms  one  of  the  pi  ineipal 
topics  in  the  letters  written  to  Robert  (subsequently  Viscount) 
Molesworth  between  September,  1708,  and  November,  1709, 
the  collection  prematurely  published  by  Toland.  The  vigorous 
prosecution  of  the  war  against  the  French,  and  a  loyal  and 
hearty  co-operation  with  Holland,  were  amongst  the  most 
cherished  articles  of  Shaftesbury's  political  creed,  and  to 
these  he  regarded  Godolphin,  notwithstanding  his  Tory  con- 
nexions and  antecedents,  a  faithful  adherent.  In  fact,  in 
the  course  of  these  last  few  years,  Marlborough  and  Godol- 
phin, the  General  and  the  Treasurer,  as  they  were  called, 
had  become  such  moderate  Tories  that  they  might  almost  be 
counted  as  Whigs.  Moreover,  the  young  Earl  of  Sunderland 
and  Lord  Cowper  had  now  for  some  time  been  respectively 
Secretary  of  State  and  Lord  Chancellor,  and,  in  November, 
1708,  even  Somers  was  restored  to  office  as  Lord  President 
of  the  Council.  Thus,  the  favourable  expressions  with  which 
Shaftesbury  had  come  to  speak  of  the  ministry  and  the  pre- 
vailing policy  by  no  means  marked  an  act  of  tergiversation 
on  his  part,  but  rather  a  cheerful  recognition  of  the  turn 
which  affairs  had  taken  since  the  beginning  of  the  Queen's 
reign.  That  he  was  no  trimmer,  or  timidly  inclined  to  con- 
ciliate the  party  in  office,  is  clear  from  the  manly  letter 
which  he  wrote,  in  1711,  to  Harley,  recently  created  Earl  of 
Oxford,  when  thanking  him  for  facilitating  his  arrangements 
for  travelling  abroad  •?  "  Your  conduct  of  the  public  will  be 
the  just  earnest  and  insurance  of  your  greatness  and  power  ; 
and  I  shall  then  chiefly  congratulate  with  your  lordship  on 

2  This  letter  is  printed  in  the  General  Dictionary.  The  date  March 
29,  there  given,  is  an  error  for  Ma}  29.  Harley  was  not  created  Earl  of 
Oxford  and  Mortimer  till  May  24.  In  Shaftesbury's  Entry  Book  of 
Letters,  the  date  is  correctly  copied. 


28 


SHAFTESBURY. 


your  merited  honours  and  advancement,  when  by  the  happy 
efFects  it  appears  evidently  in  the  service  of  what  cause,  and 
for  the  advantage  of  what  interest,  they  were  acquired  and 
emplo^'cd/' 

Another  topic  prominent  in  the  letters  of  Shaftesbury  to 
Molesworth  (who  seems  to  have  been  specially  selected  as 
his  confidant  in  this  matter)  is  the  love  affair  which  occupied 
his  mind  in  1708  and  the  early  part  of  1700.  He  was  now 
nearly  forty  years  of  age,  but  does  not  appear  hitherto  to 
have  thought  of  marrying.  His  friends,  however,  and 
^lolesworth  among  them,  f-eem  to  have  been  urgent  upon 
him  to  provide  a  successor  to  the  title,  as  his  brother  Maurice 
did  not  appear  any  more  inclined  to  marry  than  himself. 
The  young  lady  whom  Shaftesbury  selected,  and  for  whom 
he  seems  to  have  contracted  a  real  affection,  was  the 
daughter  of  an  "old  lord,^'  a  person  of  great  wealth  and  high 
position.  It  was  apparently  a  case  of  love  at  first  sight. 
"  There  is  a  lady,  whom  chance  has  thrown  into  my  neigh- 
bourhood, and  whom  I  never  saw  till  the  Sunday  before  last, 
who  is  in  every  respect  that  very  person  I  had  ever  framed  a 
picture  of  from  my  imagination,  when  I  wished  the  best  for 
my  own  happiness  in  such  a  circumstance.'*'  "  Every  cir- 
cumstance suited  exactly,  all  but  her  fortune."  '  This  w^as 
not  too  small,  but  too  large,  and  Shaftesbury  was  afraid  of 
being  thought  a  fortune-hunter.  He  was  ready  to  take  her 
without  any  dowry  at  all,  but  the  ''old  lord seems  to  have 
been  afraid  of  engaging  his  daughter  to  a  person  in  Shaftes- 
bury's precarious  state  of  health,  and  the  afl^air  came  to 
nothing.  It  is  curious  that  Shaftesbury  found,  or  imagined 
that  he  found,  a  rival  in  Charles  Montague,  Lord  Halifax. 
Halifax,  however,  did  not  marry  a  lord's  daugliter,  and  we  have 
now  no  clue  to  the  young  lady's  name.    Shortly  after  this 

*  Letters  to  Jfolesivorih.    Letter  I. 


LIFE  A  ND  CHA  RA  CTER,  29 


match  dropped  throug-h,  Shaftesbury  sought  and  obtained  the 
hand  of  Miss  Jane  Ewer,  a  distant  relative,  the  daughter  of  a 
gentleman  in  Hertfordshire,  "  with  little  or  no  fortune,  and 
not  in  the  highest  degree  of  quality  neither,'^  but  possessing 
the  more  important  recommendations  of  "a  right  education,^^ 
and  of  "  simple  innocence,  modesty,  and  the  plain  qualities  of 
a  good  mother  and  a  good  nurse/^^  The  marriage  took  place 
in  the  autumn  of  1709,  and  on  Feb.  9,  1710-11,  was  born, 
at  his  house  at  Reigate  in  Surrey,  his  only  child  and  heir, 
the  fourth  Earl,  to  whose  account  of  his  father  I  have  so  often 
referred.  This  match  was  in  every  respect  a  happy  one,  and 
the  Countess  appears  to  have  tended  her  husband  with  the 
most  affectionate  solicitude.  He,  however,  neither  had,  nor 
affected  to  have,  much  sentiment,  though  he  had  doubtless 
much-  regard  and  respect,  for  this  lady  of  his  second  choice. 
^'  Were  I  to  talk  of  marriage,  and  forced  to  speak  my  mind 
plainly,  and  without  the  help  of  humour  and  raillery,  I  should 
doubtless  offend  the  most  part  of  sober  married  people,  and 
the  ladies  chiefly :  for  I  should  in  reality  think  I  did  wonders, 
in  extolling  the  happiness  of  my  new  state,  and  the  merit  of 
my  wife  in  particular,  by  saying  that  I  verily  thought  my- 
self as  happy  a  man  now  as  ever.'"  °  It  was  well  that  it  was 
even  so ;  for,  if  we  may  trust  Shaftesbury's  account  of  the 
education  of  young  girls  at  that  time,^  there  must  have  been 
few,  in  the  upper  ranks  of  society,  who  were  not  calculated  to 
make  his  home  less  happy  than  it  was  before.^ 

4  Letters  to  Molesworth.    Letter  XIII. 

•  Letters  to  Molesivorth.    Letter  XIV. 

•  See  Original  Letters,  Shaftesbury  to  Furly,  Nov.  3,  1708. 

'  Mr.  Garnett  of  the  Bi  itish  Museum  has  kindly  called  my  attention  to 
two  letters,  written  by  Locke  to  Shaftesbury  (then  Lord  Ashley),  contained 
in  the  Forster  Collection  in  the  South  Kensington  Museum,  dated  re- 
spectively 5  Aug.  and  15  Aug.  1699.  In  the  former  of  these,  Locke 
recommends  to  his  former  pupil,  as  a  suitable  wife,  a  "young  lady,  hand- 


30 


SIIAfTESBURY. 


With  the  exception  of  a  PreCace  to  the  Sermons  of  Dr. 
"Whiclieote,  one  of  the  Canihri(J<j^e  Piatonists  or  Latitudi- 
narians,  published  in  1GU8,  ^  Shaftesbury  appears  to  have 
printed  nothin*^  liimself  till  the  year  1708.  About  this  time, 
the  Frencli  Prophets,  as  they  were  called,  that  is,  the  poor 
Cevenol  Protestants,  who  had  been  hunted  out  of  their  native 
mountains  and  valleys  by  the  troops  of  Louis  XIV.,  and 
some  of  whom  had  taken  reluj^e  in  Etii^land,  attracted  much 
attention  by  the  extravag-ancies  and  follies  of  which  they  were 
g-uilty.  Various  remedies  of  tlie  repressive  and  persecuting" 
kind  were  proposed,  but  Shaftesbury  maintained  that  fanati- 
cism was  best  encountered  by  "  raillery "  and  "  ^-ood 
humour/'  In  support  of  this  view  he  wrote  a  letter  to 
Lord  Somers,  dated  September,  1707.  But  the  letter  was 
not  printed  till  the  following  vear,  and  then  without  the 
name  of  either  the  author  or  the  person  to  whom  it  was 
addressed.  It  was  answered  in  the  course  of  that  and  the 
next  year  by  no  less  than  three  pamphlets.  In  ^lay,  1709, 
Shaftesbury  returned  to  the  subject,  and  printed  another 
Letter,  entitled  Se?isjcs  Communis :  An  Essatj  or  ihe  Freedom 
of  Wit  and  Humour.  In  the  same  year,  he  also  published 
The  Moralists^  a  Philosophical  Rhapsody  ;  and,  in  the  follow- 
ing* year,  SoUloqu?/  or  Advice  to  an  Author.  None  of  these 
pieces,  I  believe,  were  printed  either  with  his  name  or  his 
initials.  In  1711,  appeared  the  Characteristics  of  Men,  Han- 
dlers, Opinions,  Times,  in  Three  Volumes,  also  without  any  name 
or  initials  on  the  title-page,  and  without  even  the  name  of  a 

some,  well-natured,  well-bred,  discreet,  with  a  great  many  other  good 
qualities,*'  and  a  fortune  of  twenty  thousand  pounds  to  boot,  besides  ex- 
pectancies. In  the  latter,  he  makes  the  sensible  remark  that  "  how  much 
soever  the  world  wonders  tbat  you  do  not  marry,  it  is  certain  that  you  are 
the  best  jud<^e  when  that  oui^'ht  to  be." 

8  These  Sermons,  wliich  liad  bocome  very  rare,  were  republished 
Edinburgh,  with  an  introduction  by  Dr.  W.  Wishart,  in  17-12. 


LIFE  AND  CHARACTER. 


31 


printer.  There  are,  however,  several  capital  letters  at  the 
end  of  the  Preface,  of  which  the  first  three,  A.  A.  C,  were 
intended  to  designate  the  name  of  the  autlior.  These  three 
handsome  volumes  contain,  in  addition  to  the  four  treatises 
already  mentioned.  Miscellaneous  Reflections,  now  first  printed, 
and  the  Inqiur//  conceriilnfj  Vir/ue  or  Merit,  described  as 
"  formerly  printed  from  an  imperfect  copy,  now  corrected 
and  published  intire/'  and  as  "printed  first  in  the  year 

The  declining  state  o£  Shaftesbury*s  health  rendered  it 
necessary  for  him  to  seek  a  warmer  climate,  and  in  July, 
1711,  he  set  out  for  Italy.  The  Duke  of  Berwick,  natural 
son  of  James  the  Second,  and  now  a  Marshal  of  France,  was 
in  command  of  the  French  troops  which  lay  encamped  on  the 
borders  of  Piedmont.  It  was  necessary  for  Shaftesbury,  in 
order  to  enter  Italy,  to  pass  through  his  army,  but  the  Duke, 
we  are  informed,  entertained  him  in  the  most  friendly  and 
polite  manner,  and  conducted  him  safely  to  the  dominions  of 
the  Duke  of  Savoy,  one  of  our  allies.  He  settled  at  Naples 
in  November,  and  lived  there  considerably  over  a  j'car.  His 
health  had  now  become  so  precarious  that  his  son  considers 
this  a  long  time,  and  can  only  account  for  the  prolongation 
of  his  life  by  referring  it  to  "  the  excellence  of  the  air  of 
Italy  and  the  uncommon  care  of  my  mother  in  attending 
him.^"'  His  principal  occupation  at  this  time  must  have  con- 
sisted in  preparing  for  the  press  a  second  edition  of  the 
Characteristics,  which  appeared  in  1713,  soon  after  his  death. 
The  copy,  most  carefully  corrected  in  his  own  handwriting, 
is  still  preserved  in  the  British  Museum.    The  prints  in  this 

'  Lowndes  speaks  of  an  edition  printed  in  1709,  but  I  cm  find  no 
trace  of  such  a  book,  and  the  description  of  the  Treatise  quoted  in  the 
text  seems  inconsistent  with  the  existence  of  an  intermediate  edition. 


32 


SHAFTESBURY. 


edition,  as  well  probably  as  those  wliich  had  appeared  in  the 
former  edition,  were  all  invented  by  himself,  and  desij^ned 
under  his  immediate  inspection.  He  was  also  engai^ed, 
during"  his  stay  at  Naples,  in  writing  the  little  treatise 
(afterwards  included  in  the  Char  act  eristics)  entitled,  A  Notion 
of  the  Historical  Draught  or  Tablatiire  of  the  Judgment  of 
Ilercnlfs,  and  the  Letter  concerning  Design.  The  former 
was  pn])lished  in  1713  ;  the  latter,  tliongh  it  occurs  in  a  lari^e 
paper  copy  of  the  second  edition,  preserved  in  the  British 
Museum,  does  not  seem  to  have  been  generally  included  in 
the  editions  of  the  Characteristics  till  1732.  A  little  before 
his  death,  he  had  also  formed  a  scheme  of  writing  a  Discourse 
on  the  Arts  of  Painting,  Sculpture,  Etching,  &c.,  but,  when 
he  died,  he  had  made  but  little  progress  with  it.^  "  ^Medals, 
and  pictures,  and  antiquities/'  he  writes  to  Furly,  '^are  our 
chief  entertainments  here/'  His  conversation  was  with  men 
of  art  and  science,    the  virtuosi  of  this  place/' 

It  is  sad  to  find,  in  Shaftesbury's  last  letter  to  Furly, 
dated  Naples,  19  July,  1712,  that  his  view  of  the  political 
condition  of  his  own  country  and  of  the  future  of  Europe 
had  become  so  gloomy.  "  You  have  known  my  heart  many 
years,  and  that  hitherto  on  all  occasions  I  gave  comfort,  and 
was  ever  on  the  promising  side  ;  till  the  fatal  villainy  of  the 
seditious  priest  Sacheveril,  I'.nd  the  fall  of  the  old  Ministry 
and  Whigs,  never  was  I  dejected  till  this  turn."  Not  only 
had  Godolphin,  and  the  leading  Whigs,  Somers,  Halifax, 
Sunderland,  Cowper,  and  Orford,  ceased  to  take  part  in 
the  royal  counsels  in  or  before  the  autumn  of  1710,  but, 
on  the  31st  of  December,  1711,  the  great  Duke  of  ^larl- 
borough  himself  had  been  dismissed  from  all  his  employ- 

*  Amongst  the  Shaftesbury  Papers,  there  is  a  common-place  book 
(Bundle  27,  No.  15)  which  seems  to  contain  Leads  and  notes  for  this 
work. 


LIFE  AND  CHARACTER, 


33 


ments.  The  Duke  of  Ormond  succeeded  Marlborough  as 
Commander  of  the  forces  in  Fhmders,  and  at  home  Harley 
and  St.  John,  the  latter  of  whom  had  been  created  Viscount 
Bolin<i'broke  a  few  days  before  Shaftesbury^s  letter  to  Furly 
was  written,  were  now  at  the  height  of  their  power.  But 
it  was  not  so  much  the  displacement  of  one  party  by 
another  that  troubled  Shaftesbury,  as  the  change  in  Eng- 
lish foreign  policy  which  accom{)anied  it.  The  Whigs,  as 
well  as  INIarlborough  and  Godolphin,  had  been  eager  sup- 
porters of  the  war  and  o£  the  Grand  Alliance.  The  Tories, 
in  these  matters,  were  suspected  of  being  at  least  lukewarm, 
if  not  of  rendering  themselves  subservient  to  the  interests  of 
France..  In  the  negotiations  which  preceded  the  Treaty  of 
Utrecht,  it  w^as  plain  that  the  English  ministers  were  en- 
deavouring to  make  separate  terms,  and  were  basely  deserting 
the  interests  of  the  allies.  Marlborough,  in  his  speech  on  the 
address  in  the  House  of  Lords,  at  the  beginning  of  June, 
had  said  :  *^  The  measures  pursued  in  England  for  a  year  past 
are  directl}^  contrary  to  her  Majesty^s  engagements  with  the 
Allies,  have  sullied  the  triumphs  and  glories  of  her  reign, 
and  will  render  the  English  name  odious  to  all  other  nations.''^^ 
It  was  not  merely,  therefore,  the  petulance  or  despondency 
of  an  invalid,  when  Shaftesbury,  in  the  letter  quoted  above, 
wrote  to  Furly,  "  to  condole  on  the  most  sad  shame  and 
reproach  of  our  nation,  which  I  never  thought  to  have  lived 
to  see,  and  which  makes  my  sad  health  and  little  prospect  of 
recovery  the  less  grievous  to  me,  as  a  means  to  end  that 
sense  of  shame  which  I  shall  ever  retain  for  my  country, 
even  though  it  should  recover  itself  from  these  calamities  such 
as  it  is  like  to  bring  on  the  rest  of  the  world  as  well  as  on 
itself.'*'    As  if  conscious  that  he  is  writing  his  last  letter  to 

*  Lord  Stanhope's  Reign  of  Queen  Anne,  p.  528. 

D 


34 


SHAFTESBURY, 


this  constant  and  trusted  correspondent,  he  adds,  towards  the 
conclusion:  "But  Providence  is  in  all;  and  every  honest 
man  carries  his  reward  within  his  breast.  I  have  mine  (I 
bless  God)  in  a  f^ood  conscience  of  having  done  my  best,  and 
even  broug-ht  myself  to  this  weak  state  of  health  by  my 
cares  and  labours  for  the  good  interest  and  cause  of  liberty 
and  mankind/^ 

Shaftesbury  did  not  live  to  see  the  actual  conclusion  of 
the  peace  of  Utrecht,  which  was  signed  on  March  31,  1713. 
lie  died  the  month  before,  Feb.  4,  O.S.,  when  he  had  not  yet 
completed  his  forty-second  year  Writing  to  Wheelock  on 
the  10th  of  January,  and  taking  a  tender  farew^ell  of  him 
and  his  household,  he  speaks  of  his  state  as  desperate,  and 
his  pains  inexpressible.  Crell,  a  young  Pole,  who  was  one  of 
his  proteges  and  had  become  his  Secretary,  wrote  to  Furly  a 
few  days  after  his  master's^  death  :  "  His  Lordship  was  in  a 
perfect  resignation  to  the  will  of  God,  that  he  did  not  only 
bear  his  pains  and  agonies  with  patience,  but  also  with  perfect 
cheerfulness  and  the  same  sweetness  of  temper  he  always 
enjoyed  in  the  most  perfect  health/' 

Shaftesbury's  amiability  of  character  seems  to  have  been 
one  of  his  principal  characteristics.  All  accounts  concur  in 
representing  him  as  full  of  sweetness  and  kindliness  towards 
others,  though  he  may  sometimes  himself  have  been  the 
victim  of  melancholy  and  despondency.  Nor  was  his  bene- 
volence confined  to  manner,  expression,  and  words.  His 
purse  seems  always  to  have  been  open,  not  only  to  the  neces- 
sitous poor,  but  to  persons  in  a  higher  station  in  whom  he 

•  The  use  of  the  word  servant  at  this  time  is  curiously  illustrated  in 
Shaftesbury's  last  letter  to  Furly.  Tl)onj;h  he  had  sent  Crell  to  Loyden 
and  Canibridf^e,  and  was  now  eniployiiii;  liim  in  the  capacity  of  secretary, 
he  speaks  of  him  as  one  of  his  head-servants.  Similarly,  Crell  speaks  of 
Shaftesbur}'  as  his  master. 


LIFE  AND  CHARACTER, 


35 


discovered  sii^ns  of  promise  or  merit.  Like  Locke,  he  had  a 
peculiar  pleasure  in  bringinj^  forward  3'Onng'  men.  Not  only 
did  he  help  them  with  money,  but  he  was  always  ready  to 
o'ive  them  his  advice  and  even  his  instruction.  Michael 
Ainsworth,  a  native  of  St.  Giles',  the  young'  man  who  was 
the  recipient  of  the  Letters  addressed  to  a  Student  at  the 
Lhiiversity,  was  maintained  by  him  at  University  College, 
Oxford.  The  keen  interest  which  Shaftesbury  took  in  his 
studies,  and  the  desire  that  he  should  be  specially  fitted  for 
the  profession  which  he  had  selected,  that  of  a  Clergyman  of 
the  Church  of  England,  are  marked  features  of  the  letters. 
Crell,  the  young  Pole  mentioned  above,  whom  he  maintained 
at  Leyden  and  Cambridge,  and  Harry  Wilkinson,  a  boy  who 
was  sent  into  Furly's  otfice  at  Rotterdam,  and  to  whom  several 
of  the  extant  letters  are  addressed,  afford  other  instances  of 
Shaftesbury's  beneficence.  The  two  young  Furlj^s,  though 
they  were  in  no  need  of  pecuniary  assistance,  were  always 
objects  of  interest  to  him,  and  Arent,  with  whom  he  had 
read  some  of  the  classical  authors,*  seems  to  have  been  an 
especial  favourite  with  him,  as  he  was  also  with  Locke.  His 
kindness  to  literary  men  has  already  been  noticed,  in  speaking 
of  Toland.  Le  Clere  received  200/.  from  him  for  his  dedica- 
tion of  Menander.^  When  Des  Maiseaux  arrived  in  London, 
Shaftesbury  pressed  his  services  upon  him.  If  there  be  any 
service  that  I  can  do  you,  or  that  your  circumstances  need  my 
assistance,  I  beg  you  would  be  free  with  me  as  with  a  friend. 
For  T  intend  you  shall  use  me  so.'''  ^  His  careful  solicitude 
for  the  welfare  of  the  poor  in  his  own  neighbourhood,  for  the 
good  order  of  his  household,  and  for  the  exercise  of  due 
hospitality,  not  only  to  his  tenants  and  neighbours,  but  also 

<  Original  Letters.     Sliaftesburj  to  A.  Furlj,  Dec.  5,  1705. 

*  lio\x<rh  draft  of  Life  by  the  Fourth  Earl. 

•  Birch  MSS.  in  British  Museum,  No.  4288. 

D  2 


36 


SHAFTESBURY, 


to  strangers  and  i^oreigners,  are  still  attested  in  the  directions 
given  to  his  housekeeper^  She  is  to  learn  the  charaeter  of 
the  servants,  whether  men  or  women,  and  to  inform  my 
Lord,  that  no  ill  customs  be  concealed,  or  anything-  of  ill 
example  carried  on,  to  the  prejudice  of  the  family  or  con- 
trary to  Religion  or  good  manners/'  She  is  earnestly  recom- 
mended to  show  hospitality  to  strangers,  "  so  much  the  more 
as  they  are  the  more  strangers  and  from  distant  parts,  but 
especially  foreigners,  if  any  pass  this  way  in  my  Lord's 
absence/'  She  is  to  "  esteem  it  as  a  chief  concern  in  charge 
with  her  to  know  the  characters  and  condition  of  the  neigh- 
bouring poor;  that  so  my  Lord  may  know  by  her  what 
families  deserve  encouragement  and  reward,  that  charity  may 
be  rightly  placed,  and  that  what  meat  is  distributed  out  of 
the  house  may  be  sent  to  honest  families  in  distress,  each  in 
their  turn."  The  pernicious  practice  of  distributing  meat  at 
the  gate  was  specially  forbidden,  it  being  to  the  great 
injury  of  the  modest  poor,  and  to  the  encouragement  of 
vagabonds  and  others  in  this  shameless  and  dissolute  life." 
She  is  to  enquire  particularly  of  the  children  on  the  estate, 
and  of  their  schooling  (which  my  Lord  allows  them),  to 
make  her  remarks  on  the  hopeful  and  sober  children  growing 
up,  whom  my  Lord  may  be  further  kind  to,  or  take  afterwards 
into  his  service  within  doors  or  without."  Lastly,  all  occur- 
rences in  the  family  are  to  be  communicated  to  my  Lord  by 
letter,  in  his  absence,  every  Saturday  night.  These  details 
are  worthy  of  attention,  because  they  show  that  Shaftesbury's 
benevolence  was  not  confined  to  his  ethical  theories,  but  that 
it  governed  and  pervaded  his  acts.    No  philosopher  probably, 

'  Shaftesbury  Papers,  Bundle  22,  No.  3.  These  papers  contain  a 
set  of  elaborate  directions  to  the  principal  servants  on  his  estate  and  in 
his  household.  The  instructions  for  "  Mrs.  Cooper  "  are  dated  May  24, 
1707. 


LIFE  AND  CHARACTER. 


37 


at  least  in  modern  times,  ever  attempted  to  show  forth  his 
philosophy  in  his  life  more  completely  than  Shaftesbury.  It 
has  been  said  of  Spinoza  that  he  was  intoxicated  with  the 
idea  of  God.  It  mi<iht  be  said  with  equal  truth  of  Shaftes- 
bury that  he  was  intoxicated  with  the  idea  of  Virtue,  and 
Virtue  with  him  meant,  above  all  things,  benevolence  and 
care  for  others. 

Nor  was  Shaftesbury's  benevolence  simply  of  a  private 
character.  Though  the  asthma  from  which  he  suffered 
prevented  him  from  appearing  much  in  Parliament,  he  was 
always  intensely  interested  in  public  affairs,  and  ready  to 
sacrifice  to  what  he  deemed  the  public  interest  his  time,  his 
money,  and  even  his  health.  To  the  intensity  of  his  political 
interests  and  the  severity  of  his  studies  combined,  his  son 
ascribes  the  shortness  of  his  life.  "  His  life  would  probably 
have  been  much  longer,  if  he  had  not  worn  it  out  by  great 
fatigues  of  body  and  mind,  which  was  owing  to  his  eager 
desire  after  knowledge  as  well  as  to  his  zeal  to  serve  his 
country;  for  he  was  so  intent  on  pursuing  his  studies  that 
he  frequently  spent  not  only  the  whole  day  but  great  part 
of  the  night  besides  in  severe  application,  which  confirmed  the 
truth  of  Mr.  Locke's  observation  on  him  that  the  sword  was 
too  sharp  for  the  scabbard.^'  ^ 

In  the  popular  mind,  Shaftesbury  is  generally  regarded  as  a 
writer  hostile  to  religion.  But,  however  short  his  orthodoxy 
might  fall  if  tried  by  the  standards  of  any  particular  church,  and 
however  mistaken  might  be  the  conception  which  he  had  formed 
for  himself  of  the  effects  of  the  Christian  teaching  prevalent  in 
his  day,  his  temperament  was  pre-eminently  a  religious  one. 
This  fact  is  sho^vn  conspicuously  in  his  letters,  where  he  had 
no  reason  for  making  any  secret  of  his  opinions.  The  belief 
in  a  God,  all  wise,  all  just,  and  all  merciful,  governing  the 

•  Eough  Draft  of  Life  by  the  Foui-th  Earl. 


38 


SHAFTESBURY. 


world  providentially  for  the  best,  pervades  all  liis  works,  his 
correspondence,  and  his  life.  Nor  had  he  any  wish  to  under- 
mine established  belief's,  except  where  he  conceived  that  they 
conflicted  with  a  truer  religion  and  a  purer  morality.  AVe 
liave  seen  that  he  charged  himself  with  the  education  of  at 
least  one  young  man  for  the  purpose  of  enabling  hira  to 
enter  Holy  Orders  in  the  Church  of  England.  He  expresses 
the  most  genuine  admiration  for  the  character  of  the  Bishop 
of  his  own  diocese,  Bishop  Burnet.'  To  Dr.  Whichcote's 
Sermons,  he  wrote  a  most  appreciative  Preface,  hoping  that 
'Mf  they  who  are  set  against  Christianity  cannot  be  won 
over  by  anything  that  they  may  find  here/^  yet  that  **the 
excellent  spirit  which  is  shown  here  will  make  such  as  are 
already  Christians  to  prize  and  value  Christianity  the  more.'' 
According  to  his  son,^  "  whenever  his  health  permitted,  he 
was  constant  in  attending  the  services  of  the  Church  of 
England,  and  received  the  Holy  Communion  regularly  three 
or  four  times  a  year.  He  had  read  the  Scriptures  so 
diligently  that,  to  assist  his  memory,  he  made  short  obser- 
vations in  the  margin  of  almost  every  chapter  throughout 
the  Old  and  New  Testament.""  In  a  letter  to  his  brother 
Maurice,  quoted  both  by  the  Fourth  Earl  and  in  the  General 
Dictionary  J  he  speaks  with  great  satisfaction  of  their  having 
received  the  Communion  together,  and  of  their  joining  "in 

blessing  that  good   Providence  which  had  given 

us  such  established  rites  of  worship  as  were  so  decent,  chaste, 

innocent,  pure,  and  had  placed  us  in  a  church  where 

zeal  was  not  frenzy  and  enthusiasm  ;  prayer  and  devotion  not 
rage  and  fits  of  loose  extravagance;  religious  discoveries  not 
cant  and  unintelligible  nonsense  ;  but  whe»e  a  good  and 
virtuous  life,  with  a  hearty  endeavour  of  service  to  one's 

•  Letters  to  a  Yovng  Man  at  the  University.    Letter  X. 
»  Ilougb  Draft  of  Life. 


LIFE  AND  CHARACTER, 


39 


country  and  to  mankind,  joined  with  a  relig-ious  performance 
of  all  sacred  duties  and  a  conformity  with  the  established 
rites,  was  enou<^h  to  answer  the  highest  character  of 
Religion/^  This  language  is  not  very  fervid,  but  it  is  as 
remote  as  possible  from  that  of  a  scoffer.  As  his  son  very 
truly  says,  it  was  not  Religion  that  he  derided,  but  the 
appearance  of  it.  The  light  air,  approaching  often  to  banter, 
with  which  at  times  he  unfortunately  discussed  sacred  topics, 
is  no  proof  that  he  did  not  recognize  their  sacredncss.  "He 
was  naturally  of  a  cheerful  temper,  which  he  carried  with  him 
in  all  parts  of  life^  and  with  this  turn  of  mind  he  looked 
upon  Religion  as  well  as  Philosophy,  and  thought  good 
humour  very  consistent  with  the  most  pleasing  subject  in  the 
world/^2 

As  regards  personal  habits,  Shaftesbury  is  reported  to  have 
been  remarkably  abstemious  at  a  time  when  riotous  living 
was  the  rule  amongst  the  upper  classes  of  society,  and  not 
the  exception.  "  He  never  impaired  his  health  by  intempe- 
rance, for  he  was  sober  in  every  respect,  to  such  a  degree  as 
might  be  called  properly  enough  even  abstinence."  ^ 

His  friends  he  attached  warmly  to  him,  and  he  seems  to 
have  won  the  sincere  admiration  of  many  of  the  most 
eminent  among  his  contemporaries.  Sir  John  Cropley 
(whose  house  at  Betchworth  was  frequently  his  home)  was 
his  fast  friend  throughout  life.  With  Eurly  he  kept  up  a 
long  and  intimate  correspondence,  and  his  Dutch  friends 
generally  seem  to  have  been  faithful  to  him,  and  he  to  them. 
The  personal  relations  between  him  and  Locke,  notwith- 
standing the  wide  divergence  of  their  philosophical  views, 
appear  never  to  have  cooled.  With  Robert  (afterwards  Lord) 
Molesworth  and  Lord  Somers  he  was  always  on  terms  of  the 

'  Rougli  Draft  of  Life. 
«  Rough  Draft  of  Life. 


40 


SHAFTESBURY. 


strictest  confidence,  Somers  writes  to  him  not  merely  as  a 
political  ally,  but  as  a  friend  and  as  one  for  whom  he  has  a 
real  reg-ard.  Molesworth,  who  had  no  special  reason  for 
flattering-  him,  speaks  of  him  as  "possessing-  right  reason  in 
a  more  eminent  degree  than  the  rest  of  mankind/'  and  of 
his  character  as  ^^the  hig-hest  that  the  perfection  of  human 
nature  is  capable  of/"*^  Even  Warburton,  in  his  Dedication 
of  the  Li  cine  Legation  to  the  Free-Tliinkers,  is  compelled  to 
"  own  that  this  Lord  had  many  excellent  qualities,  both  as  a 
man  and  a  writer.  lie  was  temperate,  chaste,  honest,  and  a 
lover  of  his  country/' 

As  an  earnest  student,  an  ardent  lover  of  liberty,  an 
enthusiast  in  the  cause  of  virtue,  and  a  man  of  unblemished 
life  and  untiring  beneficence,  Shaftesbury  probably  had  no 
superior  in  his  generation.  His  character  and  pursuits  are 
the  more  remarkable,  considering  the  rank  of  life  in  which 
he  was  born  and  the  circumstances  under  which  he  was 
brouglit  up.  In  many  respects,  he  reminds  us  of  the  imperial 
philosopher,  Marcus  Aurelius,  whose  works  we  know  him  to 
have  studied  with  avidity,^  and  whose  influence  is  unmistake- 
ably  stamped  upon  his  own  productions. 

♦  R.  Molesworth  to  Shaftesbury,  Nov.  12,  1709.  Shaftesbury  Papers, 
Bundle  21,  No.  180. 

^  Among  the  writings  which  he  most  admired,  and  carried  always  with 
him,  were  the  moral  works  of  Xenoplion,  Horace,  the  Commentaries  and 
Enchiridion  of  Epictetus  as  published  by  Arrian,  and  Marcus  Antoninus. 
These  authors  are  now  extant  in  his  library,  filled  throughout  with 
marginal  notes,  references,  and  explanations,  all  written  with  his  own 
hand."  Life  in  the  Ge^ieral  Dictionary.  As  Dr.  Kippis  says,  in  the 
Life  in  the  Biorjraphia  Britannica,  Plato  ought  undoubtedly  to  have 
been  added  to  this  list.  Amongst  the  Shaftesbury  Pap-'rs  (Hundle  27) 
there  are  included  neat  transcripts  of  translations  of  the  Enchiridion  and 
ofBk.  1,  chs.  1 — 28,  of  the  Commentaries  of  Epictetus,  but  whether  these 
are  copies  of  translations  made  by  Shaftesbury  himself  I  cannot  say. 

It  may  here  be  mentioned  that  in  the  same  bundle  there  is  a  '*  Design 


LIFE  AND  CHARACTER, 


Lord  Shaftesbury's  body  was  brought  buck  to  England  by 
sea  and  buried  at  St.  Giles'.  His  wife  long  survived  him. 
Ilis  son  lived  to  be  an  estimable  nobleman,  and  evidently 
looked  back  with  pride  and  reverence  on  his  father's  memory. 
His  brother  Maurice,  notwithstanding  his  miserable  failure 
to  acquire  any  knowledge  of  Latin  and  Greek  at  Winchester, 
published  a  translation  of  Xenophon's  Cj/ropadia,  with  an 
Introduction  to  his  sister,  which  passed  through  some 
editions.  This  sister,  Elizabeth,  married  a  Mr.  Harris^ 
ancestor  of  the  present  Earl  of  Malmesbury,  by  whom  she 
had  a  son,  James  Harris_,  author  of  several  semi-philosophical 
works,  such  as  Hermes^  Philological  Enquiries,  &c.,  which  at 
one  time  had  a  wide  circulation.  Though  Shaftesbury  was 
one  of  the  earliest  of  English  moralists,  and  died  so  long 
ago  as  1713-13,  the  present  Earl  is  only  his  great- 
grandson. 

for  a  Socratic  History,"  to  be  gathered  from  the  original  sources,  in 
Shaftesbury's  own  handwriting.  Several  notes  and  memoranda  had 
already  been  collected.  Also,  in  the  second  edition  of  the  Biographia 
jBr/^anweVor,  are  printed  numerous  Latin  notes  on  the  Satires  SLndi  Epistles 
of  Horace,  written  in  the  margin  of  his  copy  of  that  author. 


42 


SHAFTESBURY, 


CHAPTER  II. 

WORKS  AND  STYLE. 

All  the  works  wliicli  Shaftesbury  designed  to  be  printed, 
with  the  exception  of  the  Preface  to  Dr.  AVhichcote's 
Sermons,  are  contained  in  the  editions  of  the  Characierisdcs 
dating  from  1732  onwards.  Of  the  style  and  contents  of  the 
several  treatises  comprised  in  this  collection,  I  shall  have 
occasion  to  speak  presently.  It  is  sufficient  to  state  here  that 
the  Characterislics  have  passed  through  several  editions,  most 
of  which  are  distinofuished  for  the  elegfance  of  their  execution 
and  the  excellence  of  their  typography.  The  most  sumptuous 
of  these  is  the  celebrated  Baskerville  Edition,  printed  at  Bir- 
mingham in  1773  ;  the  most  recent  is  that  edited,  with  an 
Introduction  and'  Notes,  by  the  Rev.  W.  M.  Hatch  for 
Longmans  and  Co.  in  1870,  of  which,  owing  to  the  untimel}^ 
death  of  the  Editor,  only  one  volume  was  published. 

But,  in  addition  to  the  works  which  he  intended  for  pub- 
lication, several  letters  of  the  Author  of  the  CliaracI eristics 
have  at  various  times  found  their  way  into  print.  The  earliest 
collection  of  this  kind  was  that  entitled  Several  Letters 
written  hj  a  Noljle  Lord  to  a  Young  Man  at  the  University^ 
first  printed  in  1716.  By  whom  they  were  published  I  am 
not  aware.  They  are  addressed  to  Michael  Ainsworth,  a 
student  at  University  College,  Oxford,  who  had  been  taken, 
as  a  child,  out  of  a  poor  and  numerous  family  into  Shaftes- 


WORKS  AND  STYLE. 


43 


bury's  household.  The  Earl,  'Mindiii*^  his  inj^enuity/^  em- 
ployed him  in  nothing"  servile/^  but  "  put  him  abroad  to  the 
best  schools/'  At  first  he  was  destined  for  some  other  j)ro- 
fession,  but,  "  the  serious  temper  of  the  lad  disposing*  him  to 
the  ministry/'  his  patron  maintained  him  at  the  University 
and  enabled  him  to  carry  out  his  wishes/  These  are  the  only 
published  letters  of  Shaftesbury  which,  from  a  literary  and 
philosophical  point  of  view^  present  much  interest.  They 
breathe  the  same  disinterested  love  of  God  and  Virtue  which 
are  so  distinctive  of  the  Characteristics^  and,  being  written 
with  more  freedom  and,  apparently,  vvith  no  design  of  being 
published,  they  present  the  author  in  a  less  formal  light,  and 
more,  as  it  were,  at  home.  "  Honest  Michael/'  as  he  is 
generally  called  in  the  originals,  must  have  been  much  de- 
lighted with  these  scraps  of  his  patron's  philosophy,  and  still 
more  with  the  interest  which  the  great  man  took  in  his 
studies  and  difficulties.  Shaftesbury  seems  much  pleased  at 
his  protege  having  been  bold  enough  to  commence  the  study 
of  Greek.  "  'Twas  providential,  surely,  that  I  should  happen 
once  to  speak  to  you  of  the  Greek  language;  when  you  asked 
concerning  the  foundations  of  learning,  and  the  source  and 
fountain  of  those  lights  we  have,  whether  in  morality  or 
divinity."  "I  pray  God  prosper  you  in  your  daring  attempt, 
and  bless  yo\x  with  true  modesty  and  simplicity  in  all  the 
other  endeavours  and  practices  of  your  life,  as  you  have  had 
courage  and  mighty  boldness  in  this  one."  ^  Michael  had 
fallen  across  Simplicius'  Commentary  on  Epictet^is,  and  ex- 
pressed the  pleasure  with  which  he  had  read  it.  .  No  descrip- 
tion of  study  could  be  more  acceptable  to  his  patron  than 

^  Copy  of  a  letter  to  Bishop  Burnet,  dated  May  23,  1710,  introducing 
the  youth  as  a  candidate  for  Holy  Orders,  in  Shaftesbury  Papers,  Bundle 
22,  No.  7. 

2  Letter  V. 


44 


SHAFTESBURY. 


this.  For  Shaftesbury,  like  ]*]pietctus  himself,  thinks  little 
of  learning"  which  has  no  ethical  end,  which  has  not  a  direct 
tendency  to  render  us  honester,  milder,  juster,  and  Letter.''' 
He  recommends  Michael  to  suspend  for  a  while  his  readint^-  of 
E])ictetus,  and  to  study,  as  more  within  his  compass,  the  Table 
of  Cebes,  the  easier  ])ortions  of  Marcus  Antoninus,  and  the 
First  and  Second  Alcifjiades  of  Plato.  But  he  must  not  be 
so  absorbed  by  his  studies  as  to  neg-lect  his  health.  "  For 
never  do  we  more  need  a  just  cheerfulness,  good  humour,  or 
alacrity  of  mind,  than  when  we  are  contemplating  God  and 
Virtue.  So  that  it  may  be  assigned  as  one  cause  of  the 
austerity  and  harshness  of  some  men's  divinity,  that  in 
their  habit  of  mind,  and  by  that  very  morose  and  sour  temper 
which  they  contract  with  their  hard  studies,  they  make  the 
idea  of  God  so  much  after  the  pattern  of  their  own  bitter 
spirit/'  In  this  same  letter  (the  most  interesting*  of  the  series), 
the  master  advises  his  pupil,  whose  "  endeavour  and  hope  it 
is  to  know  God  and  goodness,''  to  lay  aside  all  fear,  "  which  is 
so  wholly  unworthy  of  God,  and  so  debasing  to  his  standard 
of  reason,"  and  to  look  impartially  into  all  authors,  and  upon 
all  nations,  and  into  all  parts  of  learning"  and  human  life; 
to  seek  and  find  out  the  true  j)ulchrnm,  the  honestuirij  the 
KoXov^  by  which  standard  and  measure  we  may  know  God, 
and  know  how  to  praise  him,  when  we  have  learnt  what  is 
praise- worthy."  Be  this  your  search,"  he  continues,  and 
by  these  means  and  by  this  way  I  have  shewn  you.  Seek  for 
the  Kokov  in  every  thing",  beginning  as  low  as  the  plants,  the 
fields,  or  even  the  common  arts  of  mankind,  to  see  what  is 
beauteous,  and  what  contrary.  Thus,  and  by  the  original 
fountains  you  are  arrived  to,  you  will,  under  })rovidence,  attain 
beauty  and  true  wisdom  for  yourself,  being"  true  to  virtue  : 
and  so  God  prosper  you." 

Among"  the  most  interesting  features  of  these  letters  are 


WORKS  AND  STYLE. 


45 


the  a})pareiitly  discordant  passages  which  they  contain  on 
Locke.  In  tlie  first  letter,  after  decrying-  the  "  riddles  of  the 
sclioolmen/'  he  proceeds  to  say  :  "  However,  I  am  not  sorry 
that  I  lent  you  j\Ir.  Locke's  Essat/  of  Human  Undersianding  ; 
which  may  as  well  qualify  for  business  and  the  world,  as  for 
the  sciences  and  an  university.  No  one  has  done  more 
towards  the  recalling  of  philosophy  from  barbarity  into  use 
and  practice  of  the  world.  No  one  has  opened  a  better  and 
clearer  way  to  reasoning.*'  Above  all,  his  attempt  to  bring 
the  use  of  reason  into  religion  ought  to  be  welcomed  by 
Church  of  England  men,  as  furnishing  them  with  the  only 
weapon  with  which  they  can  combat  visionaries  and  enthu- 
siasts. But,  in  the  eighth  letter,  there  occurs  an  elaborate 
attack  on  Locke's  philosophy,  especially  on  his  ethical  theories, 
and  on  his  rejection  of  innate  or,  as  Shaftesbury  would  prefer 
to  call  them,  connatural  ideas.  Mr.  Locke,  as  much  as  I 
honour  him  on  account  of  other  writings  (namely,  on  govern- 
ment, policy,  trade,  coin,  education,  toleration,  &c.),  and  as 
well  as  I  knew  him,  and  can  answer  for  his  sincerity  as  a 
most  zealous  Christian  and  believer,  did  however  go  in  the 
self-same  track"  as  Hobbes,  "  and  is  followed  by  the  Tindals, 
and  all  the  other  ingenious  free  authors  of  our  time."  ^''Twas 
Mr.  Locke  that  struck  the  home  blow:  for  Mr.  Hobbes' 
character  and  base  slavish  principles  in  government  took  off 
the  poison  of  his  philosophy.  'Twas  Mr.  Locke  that  struck 
at  all  fundamentals,  threw  all  order  and  virtue  out  of  the 
world,  and  made  the  very  ideas  of  these  (which  are  the  same 
as  those  of  God)  unnatural,  and  without  foundation  in  our 
minds."  The  passage  is  too  long  to  quote  at  length,  but  it  is 
the  less  necessary  that  I  should  do  so,  as  I  shall  have  occasion  to 
recur  to  the  subject  in  a  subsequent  chapter.^  It  may  be  enough 


«  See  ch.  3,  pp.  100—102. 


46 


SHAFTESBURY. 


to  say  here  tliat  I  can  see  no  inconsistency  between  these  two 
jud<^inents.  In  the  first  passn<^e,  Shaftesbury  is  comniending" 
Locke's  style  and  method,  his  treating  pliilosophical  questions 
not  as  a  pedant  l)ut  as  a  man  of  the  world,  and  his  insistin*^ 
on  the  competence  of  reason  to  deal  with  all  questions  alike, 
as  well  of  religion  and  morals  as  of  philosophy  and  common 
life.  In  the  second  passage,  he  is  combating  Locke's  par- 
ticular account  of  the  origin  of  our  moral  and  religious  ideas 
and  of  the  ultimate  source  of  moral  obligations.  On  these 
points,  Shaftesbury's  system  differed  fundamentally  from 
that  of  Locke,  and,  therefore,  we  need  feel  no  surprise  that, 
when  he  has  occasion  to  compare  the  two,  he  speaks  with 
warmth  and  with  a  full  consciousness  of  the  issues  at  stake, 
much  as  he  might  esteem  the  character  of  his  old  master  and 
even  the  general  tone  and  spirit  of  the  Essay. 

The  originals  of  most  of  these  letters  were  added  some 
years  ago  to  the  Shaftesbury  Papers,  as  well  as  a  few  other 
letters  to  Ainsworth,  which,  however,  are  not  of  much 
importance.  Letter  VI.  of  the  printed  series  is  wanting,  as 
well  as  Letter  IX.,  though  most  of  the  concluding  paragraph 
of  the  latter  occurs  in  a  letter  dated  May  8  [?  1710].  Letter 
X.  has  been  considerably  tampered  with.  The  bulk  of  the 
original  letter  refers  exclusively  to  private  matters,  such  as 
the  position  which  Ainsworth  was  to  occupy,  as  Chai)lain,  in 
Shaftesbury's  family.  The  paragraphs  on  the  high-church 
clergy,  their  "  insolence,  riot,  pride,  presumption,"  &:c.,  have 
been  transferred  from  another  letter  written  to  Ainsworth, 
when  he  was  about  to  enter  Priest's  orders.  This  letter  was 
dated  Reigate,  11  May,  1711.  A  copy  of  it  is  contained 
in  a  letter-book,  Shaftesbury  Paj)ers,  Bundle  22,  No.  7.  The 
omitted  portions  of  Letter  X.  are  interesting,  as  illustrating 
the  social  position  of  the  Clergy  at  that  time.  Shaftesbury 
was  evidently  anxious  to  do  all  in  his  power  to  further  the 


WORKS  AND  STYLE. 


47 


interests  and  increase  the  consideration  of  young"  Ainsworth. 
For  that  purpose,  he  determined  to  give  his  proicffS  a  good 
start  in  his  profession,  by  taking*  him  into  his  own  household, 
in  tlie  capacity  of  chaplain.  IMichael,  whose  poor  parents, 
we  must  recollect,  were  probably  still  living  in  the  parish, 
was  occasionally  to  dine  at  my  Lord's  own  table,  and  at  all 
times  was  to  have  "the  convenience  of  the  second  table,  with 
those  of  good  condition  and  gentile  circumstances/''  This 
advantageous  offer  is  made,  ^^not  fearing  that  you  will  receive 
any  prejudice  by  it  in  your  modesty  and  humility/' 

In  1721,  Toland  published  a  small  volume  of  letters,  with 
a  somewhat  lengthy  introduction.  This  collection  contains 
fourteen  letters  from  Shaftesbury  to  Molesworth,  together 
with  two  from  Sir  John  Cropley,  Shaftesbury's  intimate 
friend,  also  addressed  to  Molesworth.  These  letters  are 
interesting  as  illustrating  Shaftesbury's  political  relations 
during  the  years  1708  and  1709,  but  they  relate  chiefly  to 
his  unsuccessful  love-aff'air  with  the  daughter  of  the  "  old 
lord,"  and  his  subsequent  marriage  with  Miss  Ewer.  They 
ought  certainly  never  to  have  been  published  during  the  life- 
time of  the  two  ladies,  and  we  need  feel  no  surprise  at  the 
bitter  terms  in  which  the  Fourth  Earl  speaks  of  the  editor. 
Toland  w^as  a  swaggering  Irishman,  who  bragged  of  his 
acquaintance  with  men  like  Locke  and  Shaftesbury,  often 
exaggerating  mere  notice  or  friendliness  into  intimacy.* 
Being  in  needy  circumstances,  there  is  no  doubt  he  was 
under  a  strong  temptation  to  turn  a  penny  by  writing  or 

*  See  the  correspondence  between  Moljneaux  and  Locke,  in  1697, 
where  there  are  several  paragraphs  referring  to  Toland's  conduct  in 
Ireland.  See  also  Limborch  to  Locke,  Aug.  3,  1699;  Sept.  5,  1699. 
Limborch  complains  that,  though  he  had  never  seen  him,  Toland  boasted 
of  his  acquaintance  and  confidence. 


48 


SHAFTESBURY. 


editing  books  in  season  and  out  of  season,  but  tliis  particular 
offenec  was  unpardonable.  lie  had  received  much  kindness 
from  Shaftesbury,  as  well  probably  as  from  Molesworth,  and 
he  has  the  effrontery  to  own  that  the  latter  had  no  intention, 
in  presenting"  him  with  the  letters,  that  he  should  publish 
them  so  soon. 

In  the  account  of  Shaftesbury  in  the  General  Dicfionarj/y 
an  extract  from  a  letter  to  Stringer,  and  two  letters  addressed 
respectively  to  Lord  Oxford  and  Lord  Godolphin  were  pub- 
lished for  the  first  time.  From  two  of  these  I  have  already 
made  quotations. 

In  1746,  and  again  in  1750  and  1758,  all  these  letters 
were  published  together  in  one  volume.  The  last  named 
edition,  which  counts  as  the  fourth  volume  of  an  edition  of 
the  C/iaracferistics,  also  contains  the  Preface  to  Dr.  AVhich- 
cote's  Sermons, 

A  volume,  entitled  Original  Letters  of  Locke,  S'ldne?/,  and 
Shafiesliiri/,  was  published  by  Mr.  T.  Forster  in  1830,  and  an 
enlarged  edition,  by  his  permission,  in  1817.  Mr.  Forster's 
grandfather,  Edward  Forster  of  Walthamstow,  had  married  a 
grand-daughter  of  Benjamin  Furly,  an  English  merchant  in 
Rotterdam,  whose  name  has  already  occurred  so  frequently  in 
these  pages.  As  Shaftesbury's  letters  are  all  addressed  to 
Furly  himself,  his  sons,  or  his  clerk,  Harry  \Yilkinson,  there 
could  be  little  doubt  of  their  authenticity,  even  if  the 
originals  were  not  extant.  But,  with  a  few  exceptions,  the 
originals,  which  are  undoubtedly  in  Shaftesbury's  hand- 
writing, are  now  included  amongst  the  Shaftesbury  Papers  in 
the  Record  Office.  In  addition  to  these,  there  are  in  the 
same  collection,  a  few  other  letters  addressed  to  Furly,  inte- 
resting as  specimens  of  the  e])istolary  correspondence  of  the 
time,  though  not  of  much  intrinsic  importance.    The  letters 


WORKS  AND  STYLE. 


49 


to  Furly  himself  are  mainly  political,  and  illustrate  Shaftes- 
bury's zeal  for  liberty,  his  afFeccion  for  the  Dutch  States,  his 
fear  and  hatred  of  France,  and  the  ea^T-erness  with  which  he 
welcomed  and  clung"  to  the  Grand  Alliance.^  They  betray 
the  keenest  sense  of  an  identity  of  interests  between  England 
and  Holland,  a  feeling  which  was  no  doubt  reciprocated  by 
Furly,  and  which  mainly  accounts  for  the  frequenc}^  of 
the  correspondence.  But  these  letters  not  only  exhibit 
Shaftesbury^s  patriotism  and  passion  for  liberty,  but  also  hie 
kindness  of  heart  and  love  of  his  friends.  His  affection  and 
respect  for  the  Furly  family,  and  his  interest  in  all  their 
doings  are  apparent  throughout.  Still  more,  perhaps,  are  we 
struck  with  these  amiable  characteristics  in  the  letters  to 
Plarry  Wilkinson  and  the  two  young  Furlys.  He  is  ever 
ready  to  guide,  advise,  or  help  them,  and  he  writes  not  in  the 
conventional  manner  of  a  patron,  but  with  a  genuine  human 
concern  for  them  and  their  affairs.  Perhaps,  in  his  corre- 
spondence with  Wilkinson,  as  in  that  with  Ainsworth,  he 
harps  too  frequently,  for  our  taste,  on  the  virtues  of  humility, 
modesty,  and  obedience,  but  then,  in  those  times,  these  were 
subjects  on  which  elders  spoke  more  freely  to  their  juniors 
than  we  do  in  ours.  It  might  be  well,  perhaps,  for  the 
young  men  of  our  day,  if  parents  and  instructors,  instead  of 
constantly  goading  their  ambition,  would  occasionally  address 
to  them  some  such  wholesome  language  as  this :  "  I  had 
rather  at  any  time  receive  from  you  one  sound  proof  of  your 
honesty,  fidelity,  good  nature,  modesty,  and  humility,  than  a 
thousand  of  your  ability,  good  fortune,  and  success.''^ 

^  Most  of  these  letters  are  unsigned.  In  a  letter  dated  Aug.  5  [1700], 
Shaftesbury  says:  "  With  a  little  caution,  one  may  write  anything  by 
the  post ;  only  'tis  best  not  to  put  a  name  to  it,  for  we  know  one  another's 
hands,  and,  though  others  may  know  them,  yet  it  is  not  the  same  ad- 
vantage to  them,  as  when  they  l)av.^  the  name." 

E 


50 


SHAFTESBURY, 


So  far  as  I  am  aware,  I  have  now  given  an  account  of  all 
the  published  letters  of  Shaftesbury,  except  the  letter  to  Le 
Clerc  on  his  recollections  of  Locke,  which  was  published  in 
Notes  and  Queries,  Feb.  8,  1851,  and  from  which  I  quoted  at 
the  beginning  of  the  last  chapter. 

The  Preface  to  Dr.  Whichcote's  Sermons  was  written  in 
1G98,  when  Shaftesbury  was  only  twenty-eight  years  of  age. 
What  is  mainly  interesting  in  it  is  to  find  that  he  has  already 
adopted  the  Benevolent  Theory  of  Morals.  AVhichcote's 
Sermo?is  had  attracted  him  hy  the  favourable  light  in  which 
they  represented  human  nature,  by  their  frank  recognition  of 
a  secret  sympathy  in  man  with  virtue  and  honesty,  and 
by  the  contrast  which  they  thus  offered  to  the  philosophical 
teaching  of  Hobbes  and  the  theological  teaching  of  the 
Calvinistic  divines.  Hobbes,  "in  reckoning  up  the  passions 
or  affections  by  which  men  are  held  together  in  society,  forgot 
to  mention  kindness,  friendship,  sociableness,  love  of  comjjany 
and  converse,  natural  affection,  or  anything  of  this  kind.'' 
The  Calvinistic  divines,  in  order  to  support  their  distorted 
scheme  of  theology,  had  magnified  the  corruption  of  the 
human  heart.  But  "  our  excellen.t  divine,  and  truly  Christian 
phi]osoi)her/'  by  appearing  "  in  defence  of  natural  goodness,'^ 
may  be  called  "  the  preacher  of  good  nature/* 

Of  the  treatises  composing  the  Characteristics,  the  first  is 
entitled  ''A  Letter  concerning  Enthusiasm."  The  circum- 
stances which  occasioned  its  production  have  already  been 
mentioned.  It  is  somewhat  rambling  and  inconsecutive,  and 
partakes  more  of  the  nature  of  an  ephemeral  pamphlet 
than  of  a  philosophical  treatise,  though,  at  the  same  time,  it 
must  be  acknowledged  that  it  contains  individual  passages  of 


WORKS  AND  STYLE. 


51 


<^reat  force,  and  even  beauty.  The  main  thesis  is  that  there 
is  a  true  anci  a  false  enthusiasm,  and  that  the  only  way  of 
distini^uishin^-  between  them  is  by  applying*  the  test  of 
ridicule.  To  judge  of  anything  aright,  especially  in  matters 
of  religion  and  morality,  we  must  be  in  a  good  humour. 
"Good  Humour  is  not  only  the  best  security  against 
Enthusiasm,  but  the  best  foundation  of  Piety  and  True 
Religion."  "  Nothing  beside  ill  humour,  either  natural  or 
forced,  can  bring  a  man  to  think  seriously  that  the  world  is 
governed  by  any  devilish  or  malicious  power/^  and  it  is  ill 
humour,  he  thinks,  which  is  the  cause  of  atheism. 
Opinions  which  claim  to  be  exempted  from  raillery  and  from 
discussion   afford   presumptive   evidence   of    their  falsity. 

Gravity  is  of  the  very  essence  of  Imposture. So  far  as 
ridicule  and  raillery  add  point  and  illustration  to  an 
argument,  we  may  go  along  with  Shaftesbury.  But  it  must 
not  be  forgotten  that  ridicule,  especially  when  applied  to  sacred 
matters,  is,  from  mere  force  of  contrast,  very  easily  excited, 
and  that  many  opinions,  of  which  we  have  no  reasonable 
doubt,  might,  with  a  little  dexterity,  be  represented  in  the 
most  ludicrous  light.  The  fact  that  a  practice  or  opinion  is 
open  to  ridicule  is  only  an  argument  against  it,  when,  under- 
lying the  ridicule,  there  is  some  valid  reason,  which  admits  of 
being  stated  in  a  sober,  though  perhaps  a  less  pointed,  form. 
Ridicule,  m  fact,  is  a  weapon  of  rhetoric  rather  than  of 
logic ;  useful  indeed,  but  requiring*  justification  for  its 
employment. 

Less  open  to  question  are  the  attacks  which  Shaftesbury 
makes  in  this  treatise  on  unworthy  notions  of  God  and  on 
the  spirit  of  religious  persecution.  We  can  only  know  God 
aright,  when  we  have  learnt  to  distinguish  between  what  is 
praise-worthy  and  blame-worthy  in  ourselves.  "  Methinks  it 
would  be  well  for  us,  if,  before  we  ascended  into  the  higher 

K  2 


52 


SHAFTESBURY. 


regions  of  Divinity,  we  would  vouchsafe  to  descend  a  little 
into  ourselves,  and  bestow  some  poor  thoughts  upon  plain, 
honest  Morals.  When  we  had  once  looked  into  ourselves, 
and  distinguished  well  the  nature  of  our  own  affections,  we 
should  probably  be  fitter  judges  of  the  Divineness  of  a 
character,  and  discern  better  what  affections  were  suitable  or 
unsuitable  to  a  perfect  being.  We  might  then  understand 
how  to  love  or  praise,  when  we  had  acquired  some  consistent 
notion  of  what  was  laudable  or  lovely.''  Reason,  if  we  will 
trust  to  it,  will  demonstrate  to  us,  that  God  is  so  good  as  to 
exceed  the  very  best  of  us  in  Goodness.  And  after  this 
manner  we  can  have  no  dread  or  suspicion  to  render  us 
uneasy ;  for  it  is  Malice  only,  and  not  Goodness,  which  can 
make  us  afraid.'^  To  attempt  to  bring  about  uniformity  in 
religious  beliefs  by  legal  compulsion  is  at  once  to  fan  the 
spirit  of  sectarianism  and  to  check  the  growth  of  a  true 
theology.  "  If  Magistracy  should  vouchsafe  to  interpose 
thus  much  in  other  sciences,  I  am  afraid  we  should  have  as 
bad  Logic,  as  bad  Mathematics,  and  in  every  kind  as  bad 
Philosophy,  as  we  often  have  Divinity  in  countries  where  a 
precise  orthodoxy  is  settled  by  law.''  "  To  prescribe  bounds 
to  Fancy  and  Speculation,  to  regulate  men's  apprehensions 
and  religious  beliefs  or  fears,  to  suppress  by  violence  the 
natural  passion  of  Enthusiasm,  or  to  endeavour  to  ascertain  it, 
or  reduce  it  to  one  species,  or  bring  it  under  any  one  modifi- 
cation, is  in  truth  no  better  sense,  nor  deserves  a  better 
character,  than  what  the  Comedian  declares  of  the  like  project 
in  the  affair  of  love — 

Nihilo  plus  agas 
Quam  si  des  operam  iit  cum  ratioue  insanias.*'  • 

History  has  shown  that  Ridicule,  and  not  Punishment,  is 

•  Terence,  Eun.  Act  I.  Sc.  1. 


WORKS  AND  STYLE. 


53 


the  most  effective  weapon  ag-ainst  Fanaticism.  "  It  was  here- 
tofore the  wisdom  of  some  wise  nations,  to  let  people  be  fools 
as  much  as  they  pleased,  and  never  to  punish  seriously  what 
deserved  only  to  be  laug-hed  at,  and  was,  after  all,  best  cured 
by  that  innocent  remedy,'" 

The  second  treatise,  on  the  "  Freedom  of  Wit  and  Humour,^' 
is  even  more  desultory  than  the  first.  Its  main  object  seems 
to  be  to  defend  the  position  taken  up  in  the  Letter  on  Enthu- 
siasm, that  false  or  dangerous  opinions  are  best  disposed  of 
by  raillery  and  ridicule.  But  the  author  wanders  into  a  dis- 
cussion on  the  moral  and  political  system  of  Hobbes,  to  which 
he  applies  with  much  effect  his  favourite  weapon  of  banter, 
and,  in  opposition  to  it,  starts  his  own  theories,  more  fully  and 
formally  developed  in  the  subsequent  treatises, — of  the  origin 
of  society  in  the  family  relation,  of  the  reality  and  disin- 
terested character  of  the  benevolent  affections,  and  of  the 
analogy  between  art  and  virtue  or  the  applicability  to  human 
actions  and  human  characters  of  the  idea  of  beauty.  As  all 
these  topics  will  come  before  us  in  the  next  chapter,  where 
I  shall  consider  at  length  Shaftesbury's  ethical  system,  it  is 
unnecessary  to  dwell  upon  them  here.  In  discussing  his  main 
topic,  Shaftesbury  remarks  very  well  that  it  is  the  perse- 
cuting spirit  that  has  raised  the  bantering  one,''  and  that, 
though  he  can  "  very  well  suppose  men  may  be  frighted  out 
of  their  wits,  he  has  no  apprehension  they  should  be  laughed 
out  of  them."  It  may  be  noticed  that  this  treatise  contains  a 
covert  sneer  at  the  Christian  Scriptures  for  not  recognizing 
the  virtues  of  private  friendship  and  public  spirit.  The  rela- 
tions of  Christ  to  his  Apostles,  and  of  the  Apostles  and  first 
preachers  of  Christianity  to  one  another,  surely  supply  ex- 
amples of  some  of  the  closest  and  most  sacred  friendships 
which  have  ever  obtained  among  men.    Patriotism  is  un- 


54 


SHAFTESBURY, 


douijtL'dly  a  virtue  of  which  it  is  not  easy  to  find  traces  in 
the  New  Testament,  but,  when  all  the  world  was  under  one 
empire,  there  could  be  little  opportunity  for  the  display  of 
public  spirit  amongst  the  subject  races,  unless  it  took  the 
form  of  opposition  to  the  existing*  government,  an  opposition 
which,  in  all  probability,  would  have  been  not  only  futile  but 
most  disastrous  to  the  interests  of  the  country  in  which  it 
originated. 

The  treatise,  third  in  order,  is  entitled  Soliloquy,  or 
Advice  to  an  Author/'  Under  this  vague  title  are  included  a 
number  of  miscellaneous  reflections,  the  connexion  of  which 
is  sometimes  not  very  obvious.  The  importance  of  self-con- 
verse and  self-knowledge ;  the  character  of  the  classical 
Dialogue ;  the  advantages  which  would  accrue  to  kings  and 
nobles  from  bestowing  a  liberal  and  discriminating  patronage 
on  arts  and  letters ;  the  value  and  history  of  criticism  ;  a 
comparison  of  the  different  styles  which  obtained  in  Greek 
Literature ;  the  spirit  of  truthfulness  which  ought  to  guide 
the  good  workman,  whether  in  art,  letters,  or  actions  ;  the 
worthlessness  of  the  school  logic  and  philosophy,  and  its 
powerlessness  in  directing  the  conduct  of  life  ;  the  superiority 
of  ethical  to  all  other  knowledge,  and  of  the  gratification  of 
the  benevolent  affections  to  all  other  pleasures;  the  parallelism 
between  beauty  of  external  form  and  beauty  of  character,  a 
correct  taste  in  art  and  in  morals ;  the  foundation  in  nature, 
as  distinct  from  mere  fashion  and  custom,  of  both  ethical  and 
esthetic  distinctions  :  these  are  among  the  various  topics, 
discussed  with  much  ease,  but  with  rather  too  much  prolixity, 
in  this  third  Treatise.  Speaking  of  it  in  the  ^Miscellaneous 
Reflections,  the  author  himself  says  of  it :  His  pretence 
has  been  to  advise  Authors  and  polish  Styles;  but  his  aim 
has  been  to  correct  Manners,  and  regulate  Lives."  The 


WORKS  AND  STYLE. 


55 


literary  cliaracter  of  the  piece  is  disfig'ured  by  the  irrelevant 
introdiietioii  at  the  end  of  some  scofRno;'  remarks  on  religious 
controversy  and  the  heroes  of  the  Old  Testament.  Those 
who  are  familiar  with  the  writings  of  Mr.  Ruskin  will  find 
that  Shaftesbury  maintains  with  him  that  it  is  only  the  good 
man  who  can  be  the  good  artist.  "  For  Knavery  is  mere 
dissonance  and  disproportion/' and,  as  Strabo  says/ it  is 
impossible  to  be  a  good  poet,  unless  you  are  first  a  good  man." 
Another  peculiar  feature  in  the  Treatise  is  the  scorn  which 
Shaftesbury  pours  on  the  prevalent  taste  for  reading  books  of 
strange  adventure  and  descriptions  of  barbarous  countries. 
The  scientific  interest  which  now  attaches  to  the  manners, 
opinions,  and  institutions  of  savages  had,  at  that  time,  been 
only  imperfectly  awakened,  and  the  significance  of  the  study 
of  primeval  man  was  understood  but  by  few  writers,  and  by 
them  but  very  imperfectly.  A  rude  love  of  the  grotesque  and. 
the  marvellous  was  what  probably  attracted  most  readers  to 
this  kind  of  literature,  and  hence,  valuable  as  are  the  fruits 
\dnch  have  since  resulted  from  this  taste,  the  reproof  was 
then  by  no  means  undeserved. 

The  Second  Volume  contains  the  two  treatises  which,  from 
the  point  of  view  of  the  Moralist,  are  far  the  most  important 
in  the  work.  The  "  Inquiry  concerning  Virtue  or  Merit,'' 
which  constitutes  the  fourth  treatise,  may  be  regarded  as 
Shaftesbury's  formal  contribution  to  the  Science  of  Ethics. 
It  raises  the  questions.  What  is  Virtue;  Wherein  consists  the 
Obligation  to  it ;  What  are  its  relations  to  Religion,  to  Society, 
and  to  the  Individual.  As  the  answers  to  these  questions, 
and  Shaftesbury's  moral  system  generally,  will  be  examined 
at  length  in  the  succeeding  chapter,  it  would  simply  involve 

'  oi)x  oiov  T€  ciyaBbv  yevs(rdai  noirjTrjv,  fxr}  nporepov  yevijdevra  avbpa  ayaOov. 
Strabo,  Bk.  I.,  ch.  2,  quoted  by  Shaftesbury. 


56 


SHAFTESBURY, 


repetition  were  I  to  enter  upon  them  here.  I  shall,  therefore, 
at  present  dismiss  this  treatise,  merely  remarking*  that  no  one 
wishing  to  acquaint  himself  even  superficially  with  the  history 
of  moral  speculation  in  England,  during  the  seventeenth  and 
eighteenth  centuries,  can  afford  to  pass  it  by  without  a  careful 
reading. 

The  Moralists,  ^'a  Philosoi)hical  Rhapsody,^' as  it  is  entitled, 
is  thrown  into  the  form  of  a  Dialogue,  and  is  obviously 
written  in  imitation  of  the  Dialogues  of  Plato.  This  form 
of  composition  had  already  been  applied  to  the  discussion  of 
questions  of  philosophy  and  natural  theology  in  the  iJ'u'ine 
Dialogues  of  Dr.  Henry  More,  and  was  soon  to  be  rendered 
famous  by  the  Dialogues  of  Bishop  Berkeley,  whose  Ilijlas 
and  Fliilonous  was  published  four  years  after  the  first  appear- 
ance of  the  Moralists.  With  the  exception  of  a  few  pages  at 
the  beginning  and  the  end,  the  interest  is  well  sustained 
throughout.  Bishop  liurd  says  that,  in  English,  there  are 
three  dialogues,  and  but  three,  that  are  fit  to  be  mentioned, 
namely,  the  Moralists  of  Lord  Shaftesbur}-,  Mr.  Addison's 
Treatise  on  Medals,  and  the  Winute  Philosopher  of  Bishop 
Berkeley ;  but  he  goes  on  to  blame  them  all  for  using 
fictitious,  instead  of  real,  characters.^  As  the  Inquiry  con- 
cerning Virtue  is  Shaftesbury's  principal  contribution  to 
Ethics,  so  the  Moralists  is  mainly  intended  to  unfold  his 
views  on  Religion  and  Theology.  It  is  an  elaborate  ex- 
position of  Theism  and  Optimism,  with  occasional  excursions 
into  the  domains  of  Art  and  Morals.  Leibnitz,  whose 
Theodicee  w^as  published  in  the  following  year  (1710),  was 
surprised  to  find  that  the  most  striking  features  of  his  own 
theories  of  God  and  the  Universe  had  been  anticipated  bei'ore 

*  Pi  efiice  to  the  Moral  and  Political  Dialogues,  quoted  in  the  Ai  ticle 
oil  Shaftesbury  in  the  Biographia  Britannica. 


WORKS  AND  STYLE. 


57 


his  book  saw  the  light.*  Shaftesbury,  in  the  person  of 
Theocles,  expounds  his  optimistic  system,  and,  as  an  example 
of  legitimate  enthusiasm,  breaks  out  into  a  passionate  address, 
a  sort  of  prose  hymn,  to  Nature  and  her  Author.  His  faults 
of  style  (of  which  I  shall  speak  presently)  are  conspicuous 
even  in  this  Dialogue,  but  yet  there  is  an  undoubted  charm 
about  it,  and  to  the  student  of  the  history  of  English 
literature  it  is  peculiarly  interesting  on  account  of  its  con- 
nexion with  Pope^s  Fssa?/  on  Man.  The  philosophical  and 
theological  views  which  it  embodies  I  must  reserve  for  exa- 
mination in  future  chapters. 

The  Third  Volume,  in  the  original  edition,  was  entirely 
occupied  with  the  piece  entitled  Miscellaneous  Reflections.^'' 
Curiously  enough,  this  piece  is  described  in  the  later  editions 
of  the  Characteristics  as  having  been  first  printed  in  the  year 
1714,  though  it  was  then  merely  reprinted,  with  hardly  any 
alterations,  from  the  first  edition  of  1711.  It  was  designed 
partly  to  defend,  partly  to  supplement  the  treatises  which  had 
preceded  it.  In  the  second  Miscellany,  Shaftesbury  takes 
great  pains  to  show  that  he  had  not  intended,  in  his  first 
Treatise,  to  decry  Enthusiasm  generally  and  absolutely,  but 
only  the  abuses  and  misapplications  of  it.  "  So  far  is  the 
Author  from  degrading  Enthusiasm,  or  disclaiming  it  in  him- 
self, that  he  looks  on  this  passion  as  the  most  natural,  and  its 
object  as  the  justest  in  the  world.  Even  Virtue  itself  he 
takes. to  be  no  other  than  a  noble  Enthusiasm  justly  directed, 

'  J'y  ai  trouv^  d'abord  presque  toute  ma  TModicee  (mais  plus 

agreablement  tournee)  avant  qu'elle  eut  vu  le  jour  Si 

j'avois  vu  cet  ouvrage  avant  la  publication  de  ma  Theodicee,  yen  aurois 
profite  comme  il  faut,  et  j'en  aurois  emprunte  de  grands  passages."  Des 
Maizeaux,  Recueil  de  di verses  Pieces  par  M.  Leibnitz,  &c.,  tome  ii., 
p.  283. 


58 


SHAFTESBURY, 


and  req-ulated  by  that  hi<^li  standard  which  he  supposes  is  the 
nature  of  thini^s."  '  The  philosophical  value  of  the  piece  is 
marred  by  digressions  on  such  subjects  as  the  derivation  of 
the  Jewish  reH<^ion  from  the  Egyptian,  the  policy  of  the 
Church  of  Rome,  the  self-seeking  of  the  clergy,  &c.  But, 
notwithstanding  the  desultory  character  of  these  miscellaneous 
reflections,  they  are  easy  and  agreeable  reading,  and  contain 
several  passages  which  illustrate  or  give  point  to  the  more 
formal  discussions  in  the  fourth  and  fifth  treatises.  In 
Misc.  III.,  ch.  2,  for  example,  there  occurs  a  peculiarly  happy 
statement  of  one  of  Shaftesbury's  most  distinctive  doctrines  : 
'^Tlius  we  see,  after  all,  that  "'tis  not  merely  what  we  call 
Princii)le,  but  a  Taste,  which  governs  men.  They  may  think 
for  certain,  '  This  is  right,  or  that  wrong.'  They  may  believe 
'  This  a  crime,  or  that  a  sin  ;  This  punishable  by  man,  or  that 
by  God.'  Yet,  if  the  savour  of  things  lies  cross  to  Honesty, 
if  the  Fancy  be  florid,  and  the  Appetite  high  towards  the 
subaltern  beauties  and  lower  order  of  worldly  symmetries  and 
proportions,  the  conduct  will  infallibly  turn  this  latter  way." 
In  Misc.  IV.,  ch.  1,  he  somewhat  ostentatiously  proclaims 
bis  indifference  to  Metaphysics,  and  assumes  the  position 
afterwards  taken  by  what  is  called  the  "  Common-sense " 
Philosophers.  "  There  is  no  impediment,  hindrance,  or  sus- 
pension of  action,  on  account  of  these  wonderfully  relincd 
speculations"  about  our  own  existence  and  personal  identity. 
"Argument  and  debate  go  on  still.  Conduct  is  settled. 
Rules  and  measures  are  given  out  and  received.  Nor  do  we 
scruple  to  act  as  resolutely  upon  the  mere  supposition  that  2ce 
are,  as  if  we  had  efl'ectually  ])roved  it  a  thousand  times  to 
the  full  satisfaction  of  our  metaphysical  or  Pyrrhonean  anta- 
gonist." "  It  is  in  a  manner,  necessary,"  he  adds  in  the  next 
chapter,  for  one  who  would  usefully  philosophize,  to  have  a 
»  Misc.  ir.,  cb.  1. 


WORKS  AND  STYLE. 


59 


knowledi^e  in  lliis  part  of  Philosophy  sufficient  to  satisfy  him 
that  there  is  no  knowledge  or  wisdom  to  be  learnt  from  it. 
For  of  this  truth  nothing"  besides  experience  and  study  will 
be  able  fully  to  convince  him/'  The  proper  study  of  mankind 
is  conduct,  its  sources,  its  sanctions,  and  its  kinds,  with  a 
view  to  practice.  The  individual  man,  however,  can  only  be 
understood  as  a  portion  of  a  larger  system.  Hence,  our  main 
business  is  to  determine  what  course  of  action  is  natural  and 
becoming  to  him  in  his  relations  to  his  fellow-men  and  to  the 
Universe  of  which  he  is  a  part.  But  Virtue,  as  exhibited 
mainly  in  the  social  affections,  is  "  his  natural  good,  and  Vice 
his  misery  and  ill." 

In  the  less  philosophical  portions  of  the  Treatise,  Shaftes- 
bury severely  criticises  the  sensational  character  of  the 
English  Drama,  "that  monstrous  ornament  which  we  call 
rhyme,"  and  the  ruggedness  of  style  prevalent  amongst 
English  authors.  This  last,  he  thinks,  might  be  remedied  by 
"  a  more  natural  and  easy  disengagement  of  their  periods,'^ 
and  by  "  a  careful  avoiding  the  encounter  of  the  shocking 
consonants  and  jarring  sounds  to  which  our  language  is  so 
unfortunately  subject."" 

The  Miscellaneous  Reflections  conclude  with  a  vigorous 
defence  of  "  free-thinking  "  and  of  an  impartial  criticism  of 
the  history  and  contents  of  the  sacred  text.  Shaftesbury 
takes  his  stand  on  the  common  platform  of  Protestantism, 
and,  with  great  effect,  quotes  passages  from  Jeremy  Taylor 
and  Tillotson  on  the  uncertainty  of  theological  tradition  and 
the  necessity  of  referring  all  disputed  evidence  to  the  supreme 
judgment  of  the  lleason.  But,  while  claiming  this  liberty 
for  others,  the  author,  with  something  of  a  grimace  which 
must  have  been  more  provoking  than  reassuring  to  his 
clerical  antagonists,  protests  that  he  has  never,  in  practice, 
acquitted  himself  otherwise  than  as  a  just  conformist  to  the 


6o 


SHAFTESBURY. 


lawful  church/'  and  that  he  is  fully  assured  of  his  own 
steady  orthodoxy,  resignation,  and  entire  suhmission  to  the 
truly  Christian  and  Catholic  doctrines  of  our  Holy  Church, 
as  by  Law  established/'  This  lan<^uage  must  not  be  reg-arded 
as  altog-ether  ironical.  But  of  Shaftesbury's  relig-ious  senti- 
ments, and  the  equivocal  attitude  in  which  he  stood  towards 
the  Established  Church,  I  shall  have  occasion  to  speak  in  a 
subsequent  chapter. 

The  second  and  succeeding  editions  of  the  Characteristics 
contain  a  Seventh  Treatise,  written  in  Italy  towards  the 
close  of  Shaftesbury's  life.  It  is  of  a  purely  aesthetic  character, 
and  is  entitled  "  A  Notion  of  the  Historical  Draught  or  Tabla- 
ture  of  the  Judgment  of  Hercules.'^  The  object  of  the  i)iece 
is  to  suggest,  for  the  use  of  the  painter,  a  delineation  of  the 
meeting  between  Hercules  and  the  two  goddesses,  Virtue  and 
Pleasure,  as  described  in  the  story  of  Prodicus  which  is  related 
in  the  second  book  of  Xenophon's  Memorabilia,  The  sugges- 
tions show  that  Shaftesbury  possessed  considerable  skill  as  a 
connoisseur,  and  that  he  was  deeply  interested  both  in  Art 
and  Classical  Literature.  Accompanying  this  piece,  which 
was  sent  to  Lord  Somers,  w\as  A  Letter  concerning  the  Art 
or  Science  of  Design,"  the  general  publication  of  which  seems 
to  have  been  delayed  till  it  api)eared  in  the  edition  of  the 
Characteristics  issued  in  1732.^  The  letter  is,  perhaps,  more 
interesting  than  the  treatise.  It  is  curious  to  find  Shaftes- 
bury, about  eleven  years  before  the  birth  of  lleynolds  and 
fifteen  before  that  of  Gainsborough,  prophesying  that,  if  the 
war  were  followed  by  a  suitable  peace  (though  the  peace  of 
Utrecht,  I  am  bound  to  add,  would  by  no  means  have  com- 

2  See  p.  32.  The  Fourth  Earl,  in  his  IMS.  Life,  complains  that  this 
letter  had  not  yet  been  published,  though  it  had  been  his  father's  express 
wish  to  have  it  printed  immediately. 


WORKS  AND  STYLE. 


6i 


mended  itself  to  him  as  satisfying  this  condition),  "the  figure 
we  are  like  to  make  abroad,  and  the  increase  of  knowledge, 
industry,  and  sense  at  home,  will  render  United  Britain  the 
principal  seat  of  arts/'  It  is  equally  curious  to  find  him 
condemning  the  works  of  Sir  Christopher  Wren,  especially 
Hampton  Court  and  St.  Paul's,  and  thinking  that  "  the  many 
spires  arising  in  our  great  city,  with  such  hasty  and  sudden 
growth,  may  be  the  occasion  that  our  immediate  relish  shall 
be  hereafter  censured,  as  retaining  much  of  what  artists  call 
the  Gothic  kind.''  Perhaps  it  was  this  unfavourable  criticism 
of  Wren,  who  long  survived  Shaftesbury,  that  occasioned  the 
delay  in  the  publication  of  the  letter. 

Shaftesbury,  it  is  plain,  took  great  pains  in  the  elaboration 
of  his  style,  and  he  succeeded  so  far  as  to  make  his  meaning 
transparent.  The  thought  is  always  clear.  We  are  spared 
the  trouble  of  deciding  between  different  interpretations  of  his 
doctrines,  a  process  so  wearisome  in  the  case  of  most  philosophi- 
cal authors.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  he  did  not  equally  succeed 
in  attaining  elegance,  an  object  at  which  he  seems  equally  to 
have  aimed.  There  is  a  curious  affectation  about  his  style,  a 
falsetto  note,  which,  notwithstanding  all  his  efforts  to  please, 
is  often  irritating  to  the  reader.  The  main  characteristic  of 
Shaftesbury's  style  is,  perhaps,  best  hit  off  by  Charles  Lamb, 
when  he  calls  it  "genteel."''  He  poses  too  much  as  a  fine 
gentleman,  and  is  so  anxious  not  to  to  be  taken  for  a  pedant 
of  the  vulgar,  scholastic  kind,  that  he  falls  into  the  hardly 
more  attractive  pedantry  of  the  aesthete  and  virtuoso.  The 
limce  labor  is  almost  everywhere  apparent.  The  efforts  at 
raillery  and  humour  are  sometimes  so  forced  as  to  lose  their 
effect,  and  he  is  too  apt  to  inform  his  reader  beforehand, 
when  he  is  about  to  put  on  his  light  and  airy  manner.  As 


62 


SHAFTESBURY. 


Dr.  Blair  says/  "  He  is  stiff  even  in  his  pleasantry,  and 
laughs  in  form  like  an  author,  and  not  like  a  man/^  We 
often  feel  inclined  to  say:  Why  this  stilted  ])hraseo!o<:^y ? 
Why  all  this  art  and  contrivance?  Surely  the  natural  frame 
of  mind  and  the  natural  course  of  conduct,  of  which  he 
speaks  so  much,  would  be  most  fittingly  commended  in 
natural  tones  and  sim})le  language.  But,  notwithstanding 
all  these  defects,  which  are,  I  think,  unduly  exaggerated  by 
some  of  Shaftesbury's  critics,  he  possesses  the  great  merits  of 
being  easily  read  and  easily  understood.  There  is,  perhaps,  no 
other  English  philosopher  whose  works  can  be  read  so  rapidly, 
or  whose  leading  ideas  can  be  appropriated  with  equal 
facility,  by  a  student  of  average  intelligence.  Hence,  probably, 
the  wide  popularity  which  his  works  enjoyed  in  the  last 
century;  and  hence,  undoubtedly,  the  agreeable  feeling  with 
which,  notwithstanding  all  their  false  taste  and  their  tiresome 
digressions,  they  still  impress  the  modern  reader. 


•  Lectures  on  Ehetoric,   Lect,  XIX. 


CHAPTER  III. 


SHAFTESBURY^S  ETHICAL  THEORY. 

Shaftesbury  is  emphatically  a  Moral  Philosoplier.  Meta- 
physical inquiries,  as  we  have  seen,  he  regarded  as  fruitless, 
and  to  Psychology,  except  so  far  as  it  afforded  a  basis  for  Ethics, 
he  paid  no  attention.  Logic  he  probably  despised  as  merely 
an  instrument  of  pedants.  And,  though  the  main  object  of 
the  Moralisis  is  to  propound  a  system  of  Natural  Theology, 
yet,  with  Shaftesbury,  morals  and  religion  are  so  interdepen- 
dent, that  this  Dialogue  may,  perhaps,  justly  be  viewed  as 
simply  extending  and  confirming  the  argument  contained  in 
the  Inquirij  concerning  Virtue.  What  the  constitution  of 
Man  was  designed  to  be,  and  ought  to  be,  that  the  constitu- 
tion of  Nature  actually  is.  Hence  Virtue  obtains  the  sanction 
of  Religion,  while  Religion  itself  is  but  the  recognition  and 
imitation  of  Supreme  Goodness. 

The  leading  ideas  in  Shaftesbury^s  ethical  theory  are  that 
of  a  system  or  the  relation  of  parts  to  a  whole.  Benevolence, 
Moral  Beauty,  and  a  Moral  Sense.  The  individual  man  him- 
self is  a  system,  consisting  of  various  appetites,  passions,  and 
affections,  all  united  under  the  supreme  control  of  reason.  Of 
this  system,  the  parts  are  so  nicely  adjusted  to  each  other, 
that  any  disarrangement  or  disproportion,  however  slight, 
may  mar  and  disfigure  the  whole.  "  Whoever  is  the  least 
versed  in  this  moral  kind  of  Architecture  will  find  the  in- 
ward fabric  so  adjusted,  and  the  whole  so  nicely  builtj  that 


64 


SHAFTESBUR  Y. 


the  barely  extending  of  a  single  passion  a  little  too  far,  or  the 
continuance  of  it  too  long,  is  able  to  bring  irrecoverable  ruin 
and  misery/"  "  It  may  be  said  properly  to  be  the  same  with 
the  affijctions  or  passions  in  an  animal-constitution,  as  with 
the  chords  or  strings  of  a  musical  instrument.  If  these, 
though  in  ever  so  just  proportion  one  to  another,  are  strained 
beyond  a  certain  degree,  'tis  more  than  the  instrument  will 
bear:  the  lute  or  lyre  is  abused,  and  its  effect  lost.  On  the 
other  hand,  if,  while  some  of  the  strings  are  duly  strained, 
others  are  not  wound  up  to  their  due  proportion,  then  is  the 
instrument  still  in  disorder  and  its  part  ill  performed.  The 
several  species  of  creatures  are  like  different  sorts  of  instru- 
ments. And  even  in  the  same  species  of  creatures  (as  in  the 
same  sort  of  instrument)  one  is  not  entirely  like  the  other, 
nor  will  the  same  strings  fit  each.  The  same  degree  of 
strength  which  winds  up  one,  and  fits  the  several  strings  to  a 
just  harmony  and  consort,  may  in  another  burst  both  the 
strings  and  instrument  itself.  Thus,  men  who  have  the 
liveliest  sense,  and  are  the  easiest  affected  with  pain  or 
pleasure,  have  need  of  the  strongest  influence  or  force  of  other 
affections,  such  as  Tenderness,  Love,  Sociableness,  Compas- 
sion, in  order  to  preserve  a  right  Balance  within,  and  to 
maintain  them  in  their  duty,  and  in  the  just  performance  of 
their  part;  whilst  others,  who  are  of  a  cooler  blood,  or  lower 
key,  need  not  the  same  allay  or  counterpart,  nor  are  made  l^y 
nature  to  feel  those  tender  and  endearing  affections  in  so 
exquisite  a  degree.""  ^ 

But  morality  and  human  nature  cannot  be  adequately 
studied  in  the  system  of  the  individual  man.  There  are 
parts  in  that  system,  both  mental  and  bodily,  which  have  an 

*  Inquiry  concerning  Virtue,  Book  II.,  Part  2,  §  1. 
«  Inquiry,  Book  II.,  Pt.  1,  §  3. 


SHAFTESBURY'S  ETHICAL  THEORY,  65 


tvick'Tit  respect  to  something'  outside  it.  Neither  Man,  nor 
any  other  animal,  though  ever  so  complete  a  system  of  parts 
as  to  all  within,  can  be  allowed  in  the  same  manner  complete 
as  to  all  without ;  but  must  be  considered  as  having  a  further 
relation  abroad  to  the  System  of  his  Kind.  So  even  this 
System  of  his  Kind  to  the  Animal  System  ;  this  to  the 
World  {our  Earth)  ;  and  this  again  to  the  bigger  world  and 
to  the  Universe.^  No  being  can  properly  be  called  good  or 
ill,  ex('e))t  in  reference  to  the  systems  of  which  he  is  a  part. 

Should  a  historian  or  traveller  describe  to  us  a  certain 
creature  of  a  more  solitary  disposition  than  ever  was  yet 
heard  of;  one  who  had  neither  mate  nor  fellow  of  any  kind, 
nothing  of  his  own  likeness  towards  which  he  stood  well 
affected  or  inclined,  nor  anything  without  or  bej'ond  himself 
for  which  he  had  the  least  passion  or  concern  :  we  might  be 
apt  to  say  perhaps,  without  much  hesitation,  ^  That  this 
was  doubtless  a  very  melancholy  creature,  and  that  in  this 
unsociable  and  sullen  state  he  was  like  to  have  a  very  dis- 
consolate kind  of  life.'  But  if  we  were  assured  that,  not- 
withstanding all  appearances,  the  creature  enjoyed  himself 
extremely,  had  a  great  relish  of  life,  and  was  in  nothing 
wanting  to  his  own  good,  we  might  acknowledge  perhaps, 
^  That  the  Creature  was  no  Monster,  nor  absurdly  constituted 
as  to  himself.'  But  we  should  hardly,  after  all,  be  induced 
to  say  of  him,  'That  he  was  a  good  Creature.'  However, 
should  it  be  urged  against  us,  '  That,  such  as  he  was,  the 
creature  was  still  perfect  in  himself,  and  therefore  to  be 
esteemed  good;  for  what  had  he  to  do  with  others?'  :  in  this 
sense,  indeed,  we  might  be  forced  to  acknowledge,  '  That  he 
was  a  good  creature,  if  he  could  be  understood  to  be  absolute 
and  complete  in  himself,  without  any  real  relation  to  anything 

3  Mor.ilists,  Part  IE.,  Sect.  4. 

F 


66 


SHAFTESBURY. 


in  the  Universe  besides.'  For  should  there  be  anywhere  in 
Nature  a  Stjsfem,  of  -\vliich  this  living  creature  was  to  be 
considered  as  a  part,  then  could  he  nowise  be  allowed  goody 
whilst  he  plainly  appeared  to  be  such  a  part  as  made  rather 
to  the  harm  than  good  of  that  system  or  whole  in  which  he 
was  included."* 

Before,  then,  we  can  pronounce  on  the  goodness  or  badness 
of  any  being,  we  must  know  the  relations  in  which  it  stands 
to  other  beings.  Moreover,  in  a  being  capable  of  passions 
and  affections,  it  is  by  these  and  not  by  its  bodily  structure 
that  we  estimate  its  worth.  "  So  that,  in  a  sensible  creature, 
that  which  is  not  done  through  any  affection  at  all  makes 
neither  good  nor  ill  in  the  nature  of  that  creature  ;  who  then 
only  is  supposed  good,  when  the  good  or  ill  of  the  system  to 
which  he  has  relation  is  the  immediate  object  of  some  passion 
or  affection  moving  him." 

"  Whatsoever,  therefore,  is  done  which  happens  to  be  ad- 
vantageous to  the  species,  through  an  affection  merely  towards 
self-good,  does  not  imply  any  more  goodness  in  the  creature 
than  as  the  affection  itself  is  good.  Let  him,  in  any  par- 
ticular, act  ever  so  well ;  if,  at  the  bottom,  it  be  that  selfish 
affection  alone  which  moves  him,  he  is  in  himself  still  vicious. 
Nor  can  any  creature  be  considered  otherwise,  when  the 
passion  towards  self-good,  though  ever  so  moderate,  is  his 
real  motive  in  the  doing  that  to  which  a  natural  affection 
for  his  kind  ought  by  right  to  have  inclined  him.''' 

When,  in  general,  all  the  affections  or  passions  are  suited 
to  the  public  good,  or  Good  of  the  Species,  then  is  the  natural 
temper  entirely  good.  If,  on  the  contrary,  any  requisite 
passion  be  wanting,  or  if  there  be  any  one  supernumerary  or 
weak,  or  anywise  disserviceable,  or  contrary  to  that  main  end; 

^  Inquiry,  Bk.  I.,  Pt.  2,  §  1.  The  quotations  which  follow  are 
selected  from  the  same  section, 


SHA  FTESB  UR  TS  E  THICA  L  THE  OR  Y.  67 


then  is  the  natural  temper,  and  consequently  the  creature 
himself,  in  some  measure  corrupt  and  ill/'  * 

These  passa^-es,  which  are  afterwards  explained  and  qualified 
so  as  to  include  a  reasonable  self  reg-ard  among-st  the  condi- 
tions, though  not  amongst  the  constituents,  of  goodness,  are 
sufficient  to  show  that,  in  Shaftesbury's  ethical  system.  Bene- 
volence, if  not  the  sole,  is  at  least  the  principal  moral  virtue. 
Of  the  relation  of  Benevolence  to  Self-Reg*ard  in  this  system, 
however,  I  shall  have  occasion  to  speak  expressly,  when  con- 
sidering' his  test  or  criterion  of  riofht  and  wrong*  in  actions. 

The  idea  of  a  moral  and  social  system,  the  parts  of  which 
are  in  a  constant  proportion  to  each  other,  and  so  nicely 
adjusted  that  the  slightest  disarrangement  would  mar  the 
unity  of  the  design,  almost  necessarily  suggests  an  analogy 
between  Morality  and  Art.  As  the  beauty  of  an  external 
object  consists  in  a  certain  proportion  between  its  parts,  or  in 
a  certain  harmony  of  colouring ;  so  the  beauty  of  a  virtuous 
character  consists  in  a  certain  proportion  between  the  various 
affections,  or  in  a  certain  harmonious  blending  o£  the  various 
springs  of  action  as  they  contribute  to  promote  the  great  ends 
of  our  being.  And  similarly,  I  suppose,  the  beauty  of  a 
virtuous  action  may  be  explained  as  consisting  in  its  relation 
to  the  virtuous  character  in  which  it  has  its  source,  or  to  the 
other  acts  of  a  virtuous  life,  or  to  the  general  condition  of  a 
virtuous  state  of  society.  This  analogy  between  Art  and 
Morality,  or,  as  it  may  otherwise  be  expressed,  between  the 
beauty  of  external  objects  and  the  beauty  of  actions  or  cha- 
racters, is  never  long  absent  from  Shaftesbury^s  mind.  I 
select  two  or  three  passages  which  exhibit  the  thought  in  a 
characteristic  manner. 

"  Is  there  a  natural  Beauty  of  Figures  ?    And  is  there  not 


»  Book  II.,  Pfc.  1,  §  3. 
F  2 


68 


SHAFTESBURY, 


as  natural  a  one  of  Actions?  ^  No  sooner  the  eye  opens  upon 
figures,  tlie  ear  to  sounds,  than  straight  the  Beautiful  results, 
and  Grace  and  Harmony  are  known  and  acknowledged.  No 
sooner  are  actions  viewed,  no  sooner  the  human  atfections 
and  passions  discerned  (and  they  are  most  of  them  as  soon 
discerned  as  felt)  than  straight  an  inward  eye  distinguishes, 
and  sees  the  Fair  and  Shapely,  the  Amiable  and  Admirable, 
apart  from  the  Deformed,  the  Foul,  the  Odious,  or  the 
Despicable.  How  is  it  possible  therefore  not  to  own  that, 
as  these  distinctions  have  their  foundation  in  Nature,  the 
discernment  itself  is  natural  and  from  Nature  alone  ?''^ 

"  By  Gentlemen  of  Fashion  I  understand  those  to  whom 
a  natural  good  genius,  or  the  force  of  good  education,  has 
given  a  sense  of  what  is  naturally  graceful  and  becoming. 
Some  by  mere  nature,  others  by  art  and  practice,  are  masters 
of  an  ear  in  music,  an  eye  in  painting,  a  fancy  in  the 
ordinary  things  of  ornament  and  grace,  a  judgment  in  pro- 
portions of  all  kinds,  and  a  general  good  taste  in  most  of 
those  subjects  which  make  the  amusement  and  delight  of  the 
ingenious  people  of  the  world.  Let  such  gentlemen  as  these 
be  as  extravagant  as  they  please,  or  as  irregular  in  their 
morals;  they  must,  at  the  same  time,  discover  their  incon- 
sistency, live  at  variance  with  themselves,  and  in  contradiction 
to  that  principle  on  which  they  ground  their  highest  pleasure 
and  entertainment.  Of  all  other  Beauties  which  Vir- 

tuosos pursue.  Poets  celebrate.  Musicians  sing,  and  Architects 
or  Artists,  of  whatever  kind,  describe  or  form,  the  most  de- 

^  Cp.  Cicero,  De  Officiis,  Lib.  L,  Cap.  4.  "Eorum  ipsorum,  quae 
adspectu  sentitmtur,  nullum  aliud  animal  pulchrit^adinem,  venustatem, 
convenientiara  partium  sentit.  Quam  similitudinem  natura  ratioque  ab 
oculis  ad  auimum  transferens,  multo  etiara  magis  pulchritudinem,  con- 
stantiam,  ordinem  in  consiliis  factisque  conservandum  putat." 

7  Moralists,  Part  IH.,  Sect.  2. 


SNA  FTESB  URY  S  E  THICA  L  THEOR  V.  69 


lightful,  the  most  engaging  and  pathetic,  is  that  which  is 
drawn  from  real  life  and  from  the  passions.  Nothing  afTects 
the  heart  like  that  which  is  purely  from  itself  and  of  its  own 
natm-e;  such  as  the  Beauty  of  Sentiments,  the  Grace  of 
Actions,  the  Turn  of  Characters,  and  the  Proportions  and 
Features  of  a  Human  Mind."^ 

"  One  who  aspires  to  the  character  of  a  man  of  breeding 
and  politeness  is  careful  to  form  his  judgment  of  arts  and 
sciences  upon  right  models  of  perfection.  If  he  travels  to 
Rome,  he  enquires  which  are  the  truest  pieces  of  architecture, 
the  best  remains  of  statues,  the  best  paintings  of  a  Raphael 
or  a  Carache,  However  antiquated,  rough,  or  dismal  they 
may  appear  to  him  at  first  sight,  he  resolves  to  view  them 
over  and  over,  till  he  has  brought  himself  to  relish  them  and 
find  their  hidden  graces  and  perfections.  He  takes  particular 
care  to  turn  his  eye  from  everything  which  is  gaudy,  luscious, 
and  of  a  false  taste.  Nor  is  he  less  careful  to  turn  his  ear 
from  every  sort  of  music,  besides  that  which  is  of  the  best 
manner  and  the  truest  harmony.  'Twere  to  be 

wished  we  had  the  same  regard  to  a  right  Taste  in  life  and 
manners.  What  mortal  being,  once  convinced  of  a  difference 
in  inward  character  and  of  a  preference  due  to  one  kind  above 
another,  would  not  be  concerned  to  make  his  own  the  best  ? 
If  Civility  and  Humanity  be  a  Taste;  if  Brutality,  Insolence, 
Riot  be  in  the  same  manner  a  Taste :  who,  if  he  could  reflect, 
would  not  choose  to  form  himself  on  the  amiable  and  agreeable 
rather  than  the  odious  and  perverse  model  ?  Who  would  not 
endeavour  to  force  Nature  as  well  in  this  respect  as  in  what 
relates  to  a  Taste  or  Judgment  in  other  arts  and  sciences? 
For,  in  each  place,  the  force  on  Nature  is  used  only  for  its 
redress.    If  a  natural  ^ood  Taste  be  not  already  formed  in 


Essay  on  the  Freedom  of  Wit  and  Humour,  Part  IV.,  Sect.  2. 


70 


SHAFTESBURY, 


us,  why  should  not  we  endeavour  to  form  it,  and  become 
natural  ?^^'^ 

Closely  connected  with  the  analogy  between  Art  and 
Morality,  as  we  may  sue  indeed  from  the  passages  already 
quoted,  is  the  idea  that  Morals,  no  less  than  Art,  is  a  matter 
of  Taste  or  Relish.  To  employ  the  author's  own  words, 
"The  Taste  of  Beauty  and  the  Relish  of  what  is  decent,  just, 
and  amiable,  perfects  the  character  of  the  Gentleman  and  the 
Philosopher.  And  the  study  of  such  a  Taste  or  Relish  will, 
as  we  suppose,  be  ever  the  great  employment  and  concern  of 
him  who  covets  as  well  to  be  wise  and  good,  as  agreeable  and 
polite. 

"  Quid  Verum  atque  Decens  euro  et  rogo,  et  omnia  in  hoc  sum."  * 

This  idea  leads  us  to  the  last  of  the  distinctive  features 
which  I  noticed  in  Shaftesbury's  ethical  philosophy.  The 
faculty  which  approves  of  right  and  disapproves  of  wrong 
actions  is,  with  him,  a  Sense,  and  more  than  once  he 
anticipates  Hutcheson  by  calling  it  a  "  Moral  Sense.''^  The 
"  Relish,''  "  Taste,"  or  "  Good-Taste,"  of  w^hich  he  speaks 
wdien  comparing  Morality  with  Art,  however  much  it  may 
have  been  improved  by  cultivation,  originates  in  a  "  natural 
sense  of  Right  and  Wrong,"  a  "  Moral  Sense,"  a  "  Sense  of 
Just  and  Unjust,  AVorthy  and  Mean."  Sense  of  Right 
and  Wrong"  is  "as  natural  to  us  as  natural  affection  itself, 
and  a  first  principle  in  our  constitution  and  make."    "  And 

•  Advice  to  an  Author,  Part  III.,  Sect.  3. 
'  IVIi.scellaneous  ReHeetions,  Misc.  3,  Cli.  1. 

^  This  is  the  case,  not  in  the  margin  alone,  as  Dr.  "Whewell  seems  to 
have  thought,  but  once  in  the  Text :  "  For,  notvvithstjinding  a  man  may 
through  custom,  or  by  licentiousness  of  practice,  favoured  by  Atheism, 
come  in  time  to  lose  much  of  bis  natural  moral  sense  ;  yet "  &c.  Inquiry, 
Book  I.,  Pt.  3,  §  2.  The  expression  occurs  several  times  in  the  margin 
of  Book  I.,  Pt.  3. 


SHAFTESBURY S  ETHICAL  THEORY,  71 


this  affection  being  an  original  one  of  earliest  rise  in  the  Soul 
or  affectionate  part,  nothing  beside  contrary  affection,  by 
frequent  check  and  control,  can  operate  upon  it,  so  as  either 
to  diminish  it  in  part  or  destroy  it  in  the  whole."'  Tiiese 
views  are  in  accordance  with  the  whole  bent  of  Shaftesbury's 
mind.  When  he  is  discussing  questions  of  Art,  he  does  not 
attempt  any  refined  analysis  of  our  artistic  judgments,  but  is 
content  with  appealing  to  a  Taste''  or  "  Ilelish,"  which, 
however,  requires  cultivation.  Similarly,  in  morality,  almost 
the  whole  stress  is  laid  on  the  benevolent  affections  and  the 
"  Moral  Sense,"  while  but  little  is  said  either  of  the  con- 
trolling power  of  the  Reason  over  the  Passions,  or  of  the 
share  which  the  Reason  takes  in  estimating  the  character  of 
our  acts.  "  Be  persuaded,"  he  says  in  one  of  his  letters  to 
Michael  Ainsworth,^  "  that  wisdom  is  more  from  the  heart 
than  from  the  head.  Feel  goodness,  and  you  will  see  all 
things  fair  and  good.^'  At  the  same  time,  it  would  be 
erroneous  to  suppose  that  Shaftesbury  entirely  ignores  the 
office  of  the  reason  in  the  moral  economy.  Witness  the 
following  passage,  which  contains  an  admirable  statement  of 
the  mutual  relations  of  the  Will,  the  Desires,  and  the  Reason. 
"  Appetite,  which  is  elder  brother  to  Reason,  being  the  lad  of 
stronger  growth,  is  sure,  on  every  contest,  to  take  the  ad- 
vantage of  drawing  all  to  his  own  side.  And  Will,  so  highly 
boasted,  is,  at  best,  merely  a  top  or  foot-ball  between  these 
youngsters ;  who  prove  very  unfortunately  matched,  till  the 
youngest,  instead  of  now  and  then  a  kick  or  lash  bestowed  to 
little  purpose,  forsakes  the  ball  or  top  itself,  and  begins  to  lay 
about  his  elder  brother.  'Tis  then  that  the  scene  changes. 
For  the  elder,  like  an  arrant  coward,  upon  this  treatment, 

»  Inquiry,  Book  I.,  Part  3,  §  1. 

*  Letters  to  a  Young  Man  at  the  University,  Letter  VL 


72 


SHAFTESBURY, 


presently  grows  civile  and  affords  the  younger  as  fair  play 
afterwards  as  be  can  desire/^  ^ 

Such  are  the  leading  traits  of  Shaftesbury's  moral  system. 
It  will  be  apparent  at  once  to  any  reader  familiar  with  specu- 
lations of  this  kind  that  the  statement,  so  far  as  it  has  gone, 
leaves  many  imj)ortant  questions  unanswered  and  many 
serious  difficulties  unsolved.  I  shall,  therefore,  sui)})lenient  it, 
before  proceeding  to  the  task  of  criticism,  by  attemi)ting  to 
extract  from  Shaftesbury's  writings  such  answers  as  T  can  to 
what  1  conceive  to  be  the  fundamental  questions  of  ethics. 
In  making  this  attempt,  one  is  constantly  baffled  by  the 
absence  of  any  systematic  treatment,  and  by  the  want  of 
depth  and  thoroughness  which  is  so  marked  a  defect  in  his 
whole  way  of  thinking.  His  main  aim  appears  to  have  been 
to  represent  virtue  in  an  acceptable  and  attractive  form  to  the 
man  of  taste  and  fashion,  and  hence  he  is  far  more  concerned 
in  drawing  an  analogy  between  art  and  morals,  and  in 
showing  that  moral  appreciation  is  a  "taste*'  or  "relish/' 
than  in  attempting  to  determine  accurately  the  moral  criterion 
or  to  analyze  with  precision  the  moral  sentiments.  So  far, 
however,  as  answers  can  be  found,  and,  in  some  cases,  there  is 
substantially  no  doubt  what  the  answer  is,  I  believe  that  the 
following  account  may  be  taken  as  correctly  expressing  his 
views,  even  though  he  may  not  have  consciously  formulated 
for  himself  the  questions  to  which  I  have  endeavoured  to 
supply  the  answers. 

I.  With  respect  to  the  practical  fest  or  criterion  of  right 
and  wrong,  that  is  to  say  the  question,  what  is  it  which 
constitutes  one  act  or  feeling  right  and  another  wrong,  the 
first  remark  to  be  made  is  that  he  says  almost  nothing  of 
actions,  what  he  almost  exclusively  concerns  himself  witli,  in 
this  relation,  being  "temper""  and  character.  As,  however, 
character  must  give  birth  to  actions,  and  a  man's  actions  are 

Advice  to  an  Author,  Part  I.,  Sect.  2. 


SHAFTESBURTS  ETHICAL  THEORY.  73 


determined  by  his  character,  if  we  can  ascertain  what,  in  this 
S3'stcm,  is  the  test  of  a  good  or  bad  character,  we  shall  also 
liave  ascertained  what  is  the  test  of  right  or  wrong  action. 
Now  J  from  the  passages  already  cited,  it  might  seem  as  if 
the  only  test  of  a  good  character,  and,  therefore,  of  a  right 
action,  were  the  fact  of  its  commending  itself  to  our  "  moral 
sense/''  But  the  "  moral  sense/'  as  we  shall  see  presently, 
must  be  educated.  Hence,  there  must  be  some  consideration 
or  considerations  external  to  itself,  in  accordance  with  which 
its  education  must  be  guided.  However  unconscious  and 
automatic  its  judgments  may  ultimately  become,  they  must, 
if  they  admit  of  guidance  and  rectification,  be  at  first,  at  all 
events,  consciously  formed  in  accordance  with  some  rule  or 
principle.  And  this  rule  or  principle,  unless  it  be  dictated 
by  some  arbitrary  will,  an  alternative  which  Shaftesbury 
would  have  most  emphatically  rejected,  must  be  based  on 
some  property  or  properties  in  the  actions  and  characters 
themselves.  There  is  one  such  property  in  characters  and 
actions  which  Shaftesbury  recognizes  as  at  once  supplying  a 
test  by  which  they  may  be  judged  and  a  standard  by  the 
constant  application  of  which  the  organ  of  judgment  itself, 
the  "  moral  sense,"  may  be  trained  and  brought  to  perfection. 
This  property  is  the  tendency  of  a  character,  disposition, 
feeling,  or  action  to  promote  the  general  good,  or,  as  he 
usually  phrases  it,  the  "  good  of  the  species."  That  this  is 
Shaftesbury's  ultimate  test  of  right  and  wrong,  moral  good 
and  evil,  the  criterion  by  which  the  moral  sense "  is  or 
ought  to  be  guided  in  its  decisions,  is  abundantly  evident 
from  the  whole  tenor  of  his  w^ritings,  but  the  following 
passages  may  be  quoted  as  presenting  the  doctrine  in  a  clear 
and  empliatic  form. 

"  To  love  the  Public,  to  study  universal  Good,  and  to  pro- 
mote the  interest  of  the  whole  world^  as  far  as  lies  within,  our 


74 


SHAFTESBURY. 


power,  is  surely  the  Height  of  Goodness,  and  makes  that 
temper  whicfi  we  call  Divine.*'  * 

Hence  he  infers  that  no  description  of  the  Deity,  which 
represents  him  as  otherwise  than  generous  and  benevolent, 
can  be  a  true  one. 

Wlieii,  in  <reneral,  all  the  affections  or  passions  are  suited 
to  the  i)ublic  *^ooil,  or  g-ood  of  the  species,  then  is  the  natural 
temper  entirely  g-ood/'  ^ 

"  And  having  once  the  Good  of  our  Species  or  Public  in 
view,  as  our  end  or  aim,  "'tis  impossible  we  should  Ijc  mis- 
guided by  any  means  to  a  false  Apprehension  or  Sense  of 
Right  or  Wrong/^  ^ 

Lastly,  Philosophy  itself  is  described  as  "the  Study  of 
Happiness/'  and,  consequently,  *^  every  one,  in  some  manner 
or  other,  either  skilfully  or  unskilfully  philosophizes/^^ 

But,  while  a  tendency  to  promote  the  general  happiness  is 
thus  adopted  as  the  test  of  character  and  action,  the  idea  is 
nowhere  practically  applied,  as  it  is  by  later  writers,  to  the 
determination  of  disputed  cases  of  conduct  or  the  decision  of 
rival  claims  between  particular  duties  or  particular  virtues. 

It  should  be  noticed,  in  this  connexion,  that,  though,  from 
the  stress  which  it  lays  on  the  exercise  of  the  kindly  feelings, 
Shaftesbury's  system  is  rightly  called  a  Benevolent  Theory  of 
Moralsj  it  by  no  means  excludes  a  due  regard  to  the  preserva- 
tion and  interests  of  the  individual.  The  relation  of  the  self- 
regarding  to  the  sympathetic  affections  is  expressly  determined 
in  the  following  })assage,  which,  notwithstanding  its  length, 
I  think  it  useful  to  quote  in  full  : — 

"  Now,  as  in  particular  cases,  public  affection,  on  the  one 

•  Letter  concerning  Enthusiasm,  Sect.  4. 

^  Inquiry  concerning  Virtue,  Book  I.,  Pt.  2,  §  2. 

8  Inquiry,  Book  1.,  Pt.  3,  §  2. 

»  Moralists,  Part  III.,  Sect.  3. 


SHAFTESBURY'S  ETHICAL  THEORY.  75 


haiul,  may  be  too  high;  so  private  affection  ma}^,  on  the 
other  hand,  be  too  weak.  For,  if  a  creature  be  self- neglect- 
ful and  insensible  of  danger,  or  if  he  want  such  a  degree  of 
passion  in  any  kind  as  is  useful  to  preserve,  sustain,  or  defend 
himself ;  this  must  certainly  be  esteemed  vicious,  in  regard  of 
the  design  and  end  of  Nature.  She  herself  discovers  this  in 
her  known  method  and  stated  rule  of  operation.  "'TIS  certain 
that  her  provisionary  care  and  concern  for  the  whole  animal 
must  at  least  be  equal  to  her  concern  for  a  single  part  or 
member.  Now,  to  the  several  parts  she  has  given,  we  see, 
proper  affections,  suitable  to  their  interest  and  security ;  so 
that,  even  without  our  consciousness,  they  act  in  their  own 
defence,  and  for  their  own  benefit  and  preservation.  Thus 
an  Eye,  in  its  natural  state,  fails  not  to  shut  together  of  its 
own  accord,  unknowingly  to  us,  by  a  peculiar  caution  and 
timidity;  which  if  it  wanted,  however  we  might  intend  the 
preservation  of  our  eye,  we  should  not  in  effect  be  able  to 
preserve  it  by  any  observation  or  forecast  of  our  own.  To  be 
wanting,  therefore,  in  those  principal  affections  which  respect 
the  good  of  the  whole  constitution,  must  be  a  vice  and 
imperfection,  as  great  surely  in  the  principal  part,  the  Soul 
or  Temper,  as  it  is  in  any  of  those  inferior  and  subordinate 
parts  to  want  the  self-preserving  affections  which  are  proper 
to  them.  And  thus  the  Affections  towards  Private 

Good  become  necessary  and  essential  to  Goodness.  For, 
though  no  creature  can  be  called  good  or  virtuous  merely  for 
possessing  these  affections  ;  yet,  since  it  is  impossible  that  the 
Public  Good,  or  Good  of  the  System,  can  be  preserved  with- 
out them,  it  follows  that  a  creature  really  wanting  in  them 
is  in  reality  wanting  in  some  degree  to  goodness  and  natural 
rectitude,  and  may  thus  be  esteemed  vicious  and  defective/'  ^ 


»  Inquiry,  Book  II.,  Pt.  1,  §  3. 


76 


SHAFTESBURY. 


The  germ  of  thou<^lit  in  tliis  passage  is  perfectly  sounds  but 
it  might  have  been  well,  had  Shaftesbury  developed  it  further, 
and  shown,  in  detail,  how  essential  are  sobriety,  temperance, 
forethought,  and  the  whole  group  of  prudential  virtues,  as 
well  as  the  much  higher  and  more  dignified  virtue  of  self- 
respect,  not  only  to  the  well-being  of  the  individual  himself, 
but  also  to  the  evolution,  and  indeed  the  very  existence,  of 
society.  Sympathy  and  a  sense  of  common  interests  are, 
doubtless,  elements  essential  to  knitting  society  together,  but, 
unless  the  majority  of  men  could  be  calculated  on  as  having 
also  a  rational  regard  to  their  own  individual  interests,  all 
social  and  political  speculation  would  be  futile,  and  society 
would  soon  be  dissolved  into  chaos.  It  may  be  added  that,  if 
a  creature  cannot  be  called  good  or  virtuous  merely  for  possess- 
ing the  self-regarding  affections,  neither  could  he  be  called 
good  or  virtuous,  merely  for  possessing  the  benevolent  affec- 
tions, if  self-regard  were  altogether  wanting.  A  man  who  was 
habitually  intemperate,  however  benevolent  he  might  be, 
could  no  more  be  called  good  or  virtuous,  than  a  man,  how- 
ever temperate  and  self-restrained,  who  was  haljitually  un- 
kind or  unjust. 

II.  As  to  the  ultimate  origin  of  the  distinction  between 
virtue  and  vice,  right  and  wrong,  Shaftesbury  supi)Hes  a 
sufficiently  explicit  answer.  The  distinction  is  to  be  found 
in  the  original  make  of  our  nature.  Apart  from  the  reason 
(whose  office  is  not  initiative,  but  directive),  the  original 
elements  of  our  moral  nature  consist  of  the  self-regard ing 
affections,  the  benevolent  affections,  and  the  moral  sense. 
The  first  of  these  is  recognized  in  all  schemes  of  ethics,  but 
it  was  the  tendency  of  Ilobbes'  philosophy,  which  was  at  that 
time  fashionable  in  England,  to  ignore  or  explain  away  the  two 
latter.  That  they,  however,  are  as  much  an  original  part  of 
our  nature  as  the  first,  is  constantly  and  emphatically  asserted 


SHAFTESBURY'S  ETHICAL  THEORY.  77 


by  Shaftesbury.  A  single  passage  will  suffice  to  show  how 
firmly  he  held  and  how  clearly  he  stated  this  position. 

"  ^Tis  impossible  to  suppose  a  mere  sensible  creature 
originally  so  ill-constituted  and  unnatural  as  that,  from  the 
moment  he  comes  to  be  tried  by  sensible  objects,  he  should 
have  no  one  good  passion  towards  his  kind,  no  foundation 
either  of  pity,  love,  kindness,  or  social  affection.  'Tis  full  as 
impossible  to  conceive  that  a  rational  creature,  coming  first 
to  be  tried  by  rational  objects,  and  receiving  into  his  mind 
the  images  or  representations  of  justice,  generosity,  gratitude, 
or  other  virtue,  should  have  no  liking  of  these,  or  dislike  of 
their  contraries;  but  be  found  absolutely  indifferent  towards 

whatsoever  is  presented  to  him  of  this  sort  Nor 

can  anything  besides  art  and  strong  endeavour,  with  long 
practice  and  meditation,  overcome  such  a  natural  prevention  or 
prepossession  of  the  mind  in  favour  of  this  moral  distinction/'  ^ 

The  reader  should  observe  that  there  are  two  positions 
maintained  in  the  above  passage:  1st,  that  moral  distinctions 
are  natural,  inasmuch  as  they  are  furnished  by  the  moral 
sense,  which,  though  reflective  rather  than  initiative,  is  a 
natural  and  original  part  of  man's  mental  constitution ;  3nd, 
that  the  benevolent  affections  are  independent  springs  of 
action  equally  w^ith  the  self-regarding  affections,  and  that, 
therefore,  the  extra -regarding  virtues,  justice,  benevolence, 
and  the  like,  are  not  capable  of  explanation  as  cunning 
disguises  of  self-interest,  but  have  their  roots  in  human 
nature  itself.  Like  Plato  and  Aristotle,  Shaftesbury  finds 
the  origin  of  society,  not  in  individuals  living  as  scattered 
units,  but  in  the  family  relation  : — 

"  This  kind  of  society  will  not,  surely,  be  denied  to  man, 
which  to  every  beast  of  prey  is  known  proper  and  natural. 


«  Inquiry,  Book  I.,  Pt.  3,  §  1. 


78 


SHAFTESBURY, 


And  can  we  allow  this  social  part  to  man^  and  (^o  no  further? 
Is  it  possible  he  should  pair,  and  live  in  love  and  fello\.ship 
with  his  partner  and  offspring,  and  remain  still  wholly  wild, 
and  speechless,  and  without  those  arts  of  storing,  building, 
and  other  economy,  as  natural  to  him  surely  as  to  the  beaver, 
or  to  the  ant,  or  bee  ?  Where,  therefore,  should  he  break 
off  from  this  society,  if  once  begun  ?  For  that  it  began 
thus,  as  early  as  generation,  and  grew  into  a  household  and 
economy,  is  plain.  Must  not  this  have  grown  soon  into  a 
Trile?  And  this  Tribe  into  a  Nation?  Or,  though  it  re- 
mained a  Tribe  only,  was  not  this  still  a  society  for  mutual 
defence  and  common  interest?  In  short,  if  Generation  be 
natural,  if  natural  afTection  and  the  care  and  nurture  of  the 
offspring  be  natural,  things  standing  as  they  do  with  man, 
and  the  creature  being  of  that  form  and  constitution  he  now 
is,  it  follows :  That  Society  must  be  also  natural  to  him,  and 
that  out  of  society  and  community  he  never  did,  nor  ever  can 
subsist.'^  ^ 

The  following  passage  is  peculiarly  interesting,  as  showing 
that  Shaftesbury  had  already  formed  the  idea,  familiar  pro- 
bably to  many  of  my  readers,  that  the  philanthro})ic  senti- 
ments which  we  now  find  in  the  higher  races  of  mankind 
were  originally  developed  from  the  family  affections: — 

"  If  Eating  and  Drinking  be  natural,  Herding  is  so  too. 
If  any  Appetite  or  Sense  be  natural,  the  Sense  of  Fellowship 
is  the  same.  If  there  be  anything  of  nature  in  that  affection 
which  is  between  the  sexes,  the  affection  is  certainly  as  natural 
towards  the  consequent  offspring ;  and  so  again  between  the 
offspring  themselves,  as  kindred  and  companions  bred  under 
the  same 'discipline  and  economy.  And  thus  a  Clan  or  Tribe 
is  gradually  formed  ;  a  Public  is  recognized  :  and  besides  the 


"  The  Moralists,  Part  II.,  Sect.  4. 


SHAFTESBURY S  ETHICAL  THEORY,  79 


pleasure  found  in  social  entertain mentj  language,  and  dis- 
course, there  is  so  apparent  a  necessity  for  continuing  this 
good  correspondency  and  union,  that  to  have  no  sense  or 
feeling  of  this  kind,  no  love  of  country,  community,  or  any- 
thing in  common,  would  be  the  same  as  to  be  insensible  even 
of  the  plainest  means  of  self-preservation  and  most  necessary 
condition  of  self-enjoyment."  ^ 

III.  In  giving  a  complete  account  of  any  system  of  Moral 
Philosophy,  one  of  the  questions  to  be  answered  is,  What  is 
the  analysis  which  it  offers  of  the  process  preceding  action? 
The  step  which  immediately  precedes  action  is  obviously  an 
act  of  "Will  ;  but  the  question  remains,  How  is  the  Will  itself 
determined,  or  what  is  the  mental  process  preceding  the  final 
act  of  volition.  Waiving  the  question,  to  which  I  shall 
presently  recur,  whether  the  Will  has  any  self- determining 
power,  all  moralists  would  agree  that  the  reason  and  the 
feelings  have  at  least  some  share  on  its  decisions.  What, 
then,  are  their  respective  provinces  in  determining  volition, 
and,  consequently,  action  ?  From  Aristotle  and  Plato  down- 
wards, the  common  theory  of  moralists  has  been  that  the 
first  impulse  to  action  comes  from  feeling,  though  the  man 
whose  moral  organization  is  under  due  control  never  acts  on 
mere  feeling,  but  invariably  submits  it  to  reflection  ;  that  is 
to  say,  he  considers  what  will  be  the  consequences  of  gratifying 
his  feeling,  and,  if  he  be  a  wise  or  virtuous  man,  he  gratifies 
the  feeling  or  not,  according  as  the  consequences  on  the  whole 
appear  to  be  beneficial  or  otherwise.  Where  there  are  many 
conflicting  or  co- operating  feelings,  the  process  is,  of  course, 
much  more  complex.  There  one  feeling  intensifies,  modifies, 
or  counteracts  another,  and  the  result,  or,  at  least,  the  result 
so  far  as  it  is  independent  of  any  capricious  act  of  Will,  is 


Essay  on  the  Freedom  of  Wit  and  Humour,  Part  III.,  Sect.  2. 


8o 


SHAFTESBURY. 


determined  l)y  tlie  number  and  relative  strength  of  the 
feelings  in  operation,  which  feelings  have,  however,  through- 
out the  process,  been  constantly  revised,  modified,  directed, 
and  co-ordinated  by  the  reflective  action  of  Reason.  The 
ofllce,  therefore,  of  Reason,  according  to  this  theory,  is  sub- 
sidiary to  that  of  the  feelings.  The  end  is  invariably  sug- 
gested by  desire,  while  reason  devises  the  means  for  its 
accomplishment.  But  most  ends  are  merely  means  for  the 
accomplishment  of  other  ends,  and  all  ends  but  one  may  be 
regarded  as  merely  means  to  the  accomplishment  of  that 
end,  namely,  the  ultimate  aim  and  object  of  the  individual, 
whether  it  be  his  own  pleasure^  the  full  development  of  his 
own  nature,  the  general  happiness,  or  whatever  it  may  be. 
Now,  in  their  capacity  of  means,  all  ends,  except  the  ultimate 
end,  admit  of  comparison  both  amongst  themselves  and  with 
reference  to  the  ultimate  end;  hence  there  is  hardly  any  end 
which  does  not  at  times  come  into  conflict  with  other  ends, 
and  thus  invite  the  intervention  of  the  reflective  and  judicial 
functions  of  the  Reason.  The  result,  in  most  cases,  is  a 
constant  alternation  of  reason  and  desire,  often  rendering  it 
difficult  to  disentangle  the  elements,  and  say  what  part  of 
the  process  is  rational  and  what  emotional.  The  one  clear 
principle,  however,  to  bear  in  mind,  though  it  is  often  lost 
sight  of  by  moralists  otherwise  acute  and  profound,  is  that 
the  end,  however  much  it  may  afterwards  be  made  the  subject 
of  comparison  and  reflection,  is  always,  in  the  first  instance, 
suggested  by  some  passion,  appetite,  desire,  or  affection,  some 
cause,  in  fact,  having  its  source  in  the  emotional  part  of  our 
nature.  The  operation  of  the  Reason  is  a  substHpient  one, 
and  consists  in  devising  means  for  the  accomplisliinent  of  the 
end,  or  in  tracing  the  consequences  of  attaining  that  end 
upon  any  other  ends  we  may  have  in  view,  or,  as  this  last 
function  might  otherwise  be  described,  in  comparing  the 


SHA FTESB URTS  E THICA L  THEOR  V.     8 1 


values  of  various  subsidiary  ends  by  reference  to  some  higher 
end.  The  horse  and  the  rider,  the  breeze  wliich  flins  the  sail 
and  the  rudder  by  which  the  course  of  the  boat  is  directed, 
have  been  favourite  metaphors  to  express  this  relation  of  the 
passions  to  ^he  reason.  When  we  come  to  ask  what  was 
Shaftesbury's  opinion  on  this  question,  we  are  baffled  by  the 
paucity  of  passages  having  any  direct  bearing  on  it  and  by 
the  fact  that  he  hardly  seems  to  have  recognized  its  im- 
portance. The  passage,  however,  already  quoted  on  p.  71, 
implies  that  Appetite  and  Reason  both  concur  in  the  deter- 
mination of  action,  and  that,  though  Appetite,  the  elder 
brother,^'  the  lad  of  stronger  growth,^'  takes  the  initiative, 
the  process  which  results  in  action  is,  or  ought  to  be,  all 
along  controlled  by  the  skill  and  courage  of  Reason,  the 
younger,  though  the  sprightlier,  lad  of  the  two. 

IV.  But  if  there  are  few  passages  in  Shaftesbury's  works 
bearing  on  the  question  just  discussed,  there  is  no  difficulty 
in  finding  any  number  of  utterances  on  the  allied  question, 
AVhat  is  the  analysis  of  the  act  of  approbation  or  disappro- 
bation which  follows  on  action,  or  IIow  do  we  know  one 
action  to  be  right  and  another  wrong.  The  prominence  of 
the  conception  of  a  "  Moral  Sense ''  in  Shaftesbury's  system 
has  already  been  noticed.  The  sentiment  by  which  we  ap- 
prove or  disapprove  of  a  moral  action  is  constantly  compared 
with  taste""  in  art.  Just  as  a  connoisseur,  immediately  on 
perceiving  a  picture  or  a  statue,  pronounces  on  its  merits,  so 
a  man  with  a  cultivated  "  Moral  Sense  "  no  sooner  contem- 
plates an  action,  a  quality,  or  a  character,  than  he  is  able  at 
once  to  distinguish  it  as  lovely  or  unlovely,  moral  or  immoral, 
right  or  wrong.  Though,  however,  the  Moral  Sense  admits 
of  being  strengthened  and  refined  by  cultivation,  just  as  it 
may  to  a  great  extent,  if  not  altogether,  be  lost  "  through 
custom  or  by  licentiousness  of  practice,"  it  has  its  roots  in 

G 


82 


SHAFTESBURY, 


the  very  constitution  of  the  human  mind.  It  is  a  "natural 
sense  of  Right  and  Wrong*."  To  quote  a  passage  already 
cited,  it  is  "  an  original  affection  of  earliest  rise  in  the  soul 
or  affectionate  part.'^  At  the  same  time^  this  sense,  though 
its  emotional  character  is  always  uppermost  in  ^haftesbury^s 
mind,  seems  to  include  a  certain  amount  of  judgment  or 
reflection,,  that  is  to  say,  a  rational  element.  Witness  the 
following  passage : — 

"  If  a  Creature  be  generous,  kind,  constant,  compassionate ; 
yet  if  he  cannot  reflect  on  what  he  himself  does,  or  sees  others 
do,  60  as  to  take  notice  of  what  is  worthy  or  honest,  and 
make  that  notice  or  conception  of  Worth  and  Honesty  to  be 
an  object  of  his  affection,  he  has  not  the  character  of  being 
virtuous :  for  thus,  and  no  otherwise,  he  is  capable  of  having 
a  Sense  of  Right  or  Wrong,  a  Sentiment  or  Judgment  of 
what  is  done,  through  just,  equal,  and  good  Affection,  or  the 
contrary.^^  ^ 

Shaftesbury's  doctrine,  on  this  head,  may,  perhaps,  briefly 
be  summed  up  as  follows.  Each  man  has  from  the  first  a 
natural  Sense  of  Right  and  Wrong,  a  ''Moral  Sense or  "Con- 
science (all  which  expressions  he  employs  as  synonymous). 
This  sense  is,  in  its  natural  condition,  wholly  or  mainly 
emotional,  but,  as  it  admits  of  constant  education  and  im- 
provement, the  rational  or  reflective  element  in  it  gradually 
becomes  more  prominent.  Its  decisions  are  generally  de- 
scribed as  if  they  were  immediate,  and,  beyond  the  occasional 
recognition  of  a  rational  as  well  as  an  emotional  element, 
little  or  no  attempt  is  made  to  analyze  it.  In  all  these 
respects,  Shaftesbury's  "Moral  Sense''  differs  little  from  the 
"Conscience^"'  subsequently  described  by  Butler,  the  main 
distinctions  being  that  with  Butler  the  rational  or  reflective 


»  Inquiry,  Book  T.,  Pt  2,  3. 


SHAFTESBURY'S  ETHICAL  THEORY.  83 


element  assumes  greater  prominence  than  with  Shaftesbury, 
while,  on  the  other  hand,  the  Conscience of  the  one  writer 
is  invested  with  a  more  absolute  and  uniform^  character  than 
is  the  Moral  Sense of  the  other.  I  shall  presently  proceed 
to  criticize  this  part  of  Shaftesbury's  doctrine,  but  it  will  be 
convenient  to  consider  it  in  connexion  with  other  peculiarities 
of  his  system. 

V.  As  to  the  sanctions  of  morality,  that  is  to  say,  the  con- 
siderations or  influences  which  impel  men  to  right-doing  or 
deter  them  from  wrong-doing,  Shaftesbury's  answer  is  per- 
fectly clear.  The  principal  sanction  with  him  is  the  appro- 
bation or  disapprobation  of  the  Moral  Sense.  As  nothing 
can  be  more  delightful  than  the  witness  of  a  good  conscience, 
so  nothing  can  be  more  painful  than  the  remorse  which 
follows  on  a  bad  action.  '^To  a  rational  creature  it  must  be 
horridly  offensive  and  grievous,  to  have  the  reflection  in  his 
mind  of  any  unjust  action  or  behaviour  which  he  knows  to  be 
naturally  odious  and  ill-deserving.'^  With  this  sanction  is 
combined,  in  the  case  of  those  who  have  any  true  sense  of  \ 
religion,  the  love  and  reverence  of  a  beneficent,  just,  and  wise 
God,  whose  example  serves  "to  raise  and  increase  the  affection 
towards  Virtue,  and  to  submit  and  subdue  all  other  affections 
to  that  alone."'^  "Nor  is  this  Good  effected  by  Example 
merely.  For  where  the  theistical  belief  is  entire  and  perfect, 
there  must  be  a  steady  opinion  of  the  Superintendency  of  a 
Supreme  Being,  a  witness  and  spectator  of  human  life,  and 
conscious  of  whatsoever  is  felt  or  acted  in  the  universe ;  so 
that  in  the  perfectest  recess,  or  deepest  solitude,  there  must 
be  One  still  presumed  remaining  with  us,  whose  presence 

^  I  do  not  use  the  word  "  authoritative,"  because  I  do  not  admit  that 
the  moral  sense  of  Shaftesbury  is,  in  normal  cases,  less  authoritative  than 
the  Conscience  of  Butler.    See  Ch.  5,  pp.  144-47. 

7  Inquiry,  Book  II.,  Ft.  2,  §  1. 

G  2 


84 


SHAFTESBURY. 


singly  must  be  of  more  moment  than  that  of  the  most  august 
assembly  on  earth.  In  such  a  presence,  ^tis  evident  that,  as 
the  shame  of  guilty  actions  must  be  the  greatest  of  any,  so 
must  the  honour  be  of  well  doing,  even  under  the  unjust 
censure  of  a  world.  And,  in  this  case,  'tis  very  apparent 
how  conducing  a  perfect  Theism  must  be  to  virtue,  and  how 
great  deficiency  there  is  in  Atheism/'  "  And  thus,"  as  he 
says  presently,  "  the  perfection  and  height  of  Virtue  must  be 
owing  to  the  Belief  of  a  God/"*  ^ 

These  two,  the  Moral  Sense  and  the  love  and  reverence  of 
God,  and  these  two  alone,  are,  with  Shaftesbury,  the  proper 
sanctions  of  right  conduct.  The  sanction  on  which  Locke 
had  almost  exclusively  rested  morality,  namely,  the  fear  of 
future  punishment  and  the  hope  of  future  reward,  is  treated 
as  being  exactly  on  the  same  level  as  the  sanctions  of  law 
and  of  public  opinion.  All  these  sanctions  may  be  efficacious 
in  restraining  the  wrong- doer  by  appealing  to  his  private 
interests,  and,  consequently,  they  ought  not  to  be  neglected 
by  the  legislator  and  the  moralist;®  but,  inasmuch  as  they 

8  Inquiry,  Book  I.,  Pt.  3,  §  3. 

^  "  It  is  certain  that  the  principle  of  Fear  of  Future  Punishment  and 
Hope  of  Future  Keward,  how  mercenary  or  servile  soever  it  may  be 
accounted,  is  yet,  in  many  circumstances,  a  great  advantage,  security,  and 
support  to  Virtue."    Inquiry,  Book  I.,  Pt.  3,  §  3. 

"  To  this  it  is  that,  in  our  friend's  opinion,  we  ought  all  of  us  to  aspire, 
so  as  to  endeavour  that  the  excellence  of  the  object,  not  the  reward  or 
punishment,  should  be  our  motive ;  but  that,  where,  through  the  corruption 
of  our  nature,  the  former  of  these  motives  is  found  insufficient  to  excite 
to  virtue,  there  the  latter  should  be  brought  in  aid,  and  on  no  account  be 
undervalued  or  neglected."  Moralists,  Part  II.,  Sect.  3.  He  presently 
proceeds  to  show,  in  the  same  section,  how  the  argument  against  a 
providential  order  from  the  apparent  disadvantages,  under  which  Virtue 
often  suffers  in  this  life,  may  be  at  once  answered  on  the  hypothesis  of  a 
future  existence.  "  Though  the  appearances  hold  ever  so  strongly 
against  Virtue,  and  in  favour  of  Vice,  the  objection  which  arises  hence 


SHAFTESB UR  YS  E  THICAL  THEOR  V.  85 


make  no  appeal  to  man^s  moral  nature,  right  conduct^  secured 
by  such  means,  cannot  strictly  be  called  good  or  virtuous. 
"  Neither  the  fear  of  future  punishment  nor  the  hope  of 
future  reward  can  possibly  be  of  the  kind  called  good 
affections,  such  as  are  acknowledged  the  springs  and  sources 
of  all  actions  truly  good.  Nor  can  this  fear  or  hope  consist 
in  reality  with  Virtue  or  Goodness,  if  it  either  stands  as 
essential  to  any  moral  performance,  or  as  a  considerable 
motive  to  any  act  of  which  some  better  affection  ought  alojie 
to  have  been  a  sufficient  cause  ^  Shaftesbury's  teaching  on 
this  subject  is  so  different  from  that  of  most  of  the  divines 
and  moralists  of  his  time,  and,  moreover,  contains  so  large  an 
element  of  truth,  that  I  shall  add  one  or  two  further  illus- 
trations of  it: — 

"  If  there  be  a  belief  or  conception  of  a  Deity,  who  is 
considered  only  as  powerful  over  his  creature,  and  enforcing 
obedience  to  his  absolute  will  by  particular  rewards  and 
punishments ;  and  if  on  this  account,  through  hope  merely  of 
reward  or  fear  of  punishment,  the  creature  be  incited  to  do 
the  good  he  hates,  or  restrained  from  doing  the  ill  to  which 
he  is  not  otherwise  in  the  least  degree  averse  :  there  is  in  this 
case  no  Virtue  or  Goodness  whatsoever.  The  creature,  not- 
withstanding his  good  conduct,  is  intrinsically  of  as  little 
worth  as  if  he  acted  in  his  natural  way,  when  under  no  dread 
or  terror  of  any  sort.  There  is  no  more  of  Rectitude,  Piety, 
or  Sanctity  in  a  creature  thus  reformed,  than  there  is  Meek- 
ness or  Gentleness  in  a  tiger  strongly  chained,  or  Innocence 
and  Sobriety  in  a  monkey  under  the  discipline  of  the 
whip.'"' 

against  a  Deity  may  be  easily  removed,  and  all  set  right  again  on  the 

supposal  of  a  future  state  For  he  needs  not  be  over-and-above 

solicitous  as  to  the  fate  of  Virtue  in  this  world,  who  is  secure  of  Here- 
after." 

*  Inquiry,  Book  I.,  Pt.  3,  §  3. 


86 


SHAFTESBURY. 


Nay,  these  slavisli  fears  and  selfish  hopes  are  actually 
destructive  of  true  piety  and  genuine  goodness.  "  If  it  be 
true  piety  to  love  God  for  his  own  sake,  the  over-solicitous 
regard  to  private  good,  expected  from  him,  must  of  necessity 
prove  a  diminution  of  Piety.  For  whilst  God  is  beloved  only 
as  the  cause  of  private  good,  he  is  no  otherwise  beloved  than 
as  any  other  instrument  or  means  of  pleasure  by  any  vicious 
creature.  Now  the  more  there  is  of  this  violent  affection 
towards  private  good,  the  less  room  is  there  for  the  other  sort 
towards  Goodness  itself,  or  any  good  and  deserving  object, 
worthy  of  love  and  admiration  for  its  own  sake ;  such  as  God 
is  universally  acknowledged,  or  at  least  by  the  generality  o£ 
civihzed  or  refined  worshippers.'"'  ^ 

In  this  protest,  admirable  and  much-needed,  as,  for  the 
most  part,  it  was,  against  the  sordid  motives  almost  ex- 
clusively insisted  on  in  the  current  theology  of  Shaftesbury's 
time,  one  point  is  sometimes  left  out  of  view.  "  The  law,'"* 
says  St.  Paul,  "  was  our  schoolmaster  to  bring  us  unto 
Christ/''  And  similarly,  the  hope  of  reward  and  the  fear  of 
punishment,  though,  in  some  cases,  the  only  motives  which 
are  at  first  really  efficacious,  often,  in  course  of  time,  so  inure 
men  to  right-doing,  that  they  come  to  love  Virtue  and  God, 
the  Exemplar  and  Rewarder  of  Virtue,  for  their  own  sakes. 
In  the  highest  class  of  minds,  these  purer  and  nobler  motives 
may  be  dominanrt  from  the  first,  and  in  the  lowest  class  of 

2  Yet  there  is  one  sense  in  which  the  hope  of  future  reward  is  itself  an 
evidence  of  the  love  of  virtue  for  its  own  sake.  "In  the  case  of  reHgion, 
however,  it  must  be  considered  that,  if  by  the  hope  of  reward  be  under- 
stood the  love  and  desire  of  virtuous  enjoyment,  or  of  the  very  practice 
and  exercise  of  virtue  in  another  life,  the  expectation  or  hope  of  this  kind 
is  so  far  from  being  derogatory  to  virtue,  that  it  is  an  evidence  of  our 
loving  it  the  more  sincerely  and  for  its  own  sake.  Nor  can  this  principle 
be  justly  called  selfish ;  for,  if  the  love  of  virtue  be  not  mere  self-interest, 
the  love  and  desire  of  life  for  virtue's  sake  cannot  be  esteemed  so," 


SHAFTESBURY S  ETHICAL  THEORY.  87 


minds  they  may,  throughout  life,  remain  almost  dormant, 
but  there  is  a  large  intermediate  class  of  men  whose  moral 
nature  admits  of  gradual  exaltation,  and  in  whom  the  disci- 
pline which  was  necessary  to  them  in  childhood  gradually 
gives  place  to  the  free  and  loving  submission  of  manhood. 
Virtue  is  at  first  a  hard  rule  and  God  a  stern  master,  but,  as 
reason  develops  and  the  habit  of  obedience  becomes  fixed, 
the  truth  is  revealed  in  all  its  beauty  and  simplicity,  and  love 
becomes  the  fulfilling  of  the  law.  Then,  hope  and  fear  make 
way  for  love  and  reverence,  the  unselfish  sense  of  duty  and 
the  spontaneous  imitation  of  God.  One  set  of  motives  thus 
gradually  prepares  the  mind  for  another,  and,  when  it  has 
done  its  work,  itself  disappears.  "  After  that  faith  is  come, 
we  are  no  longer  under  a  schoolmaster.^^ 

These  considerations,  however,  though  not  sufficiently 
insisted  on,  are  by  no  means  ignored  by  Shaftesbury.  By 
means  of  the  discipline  of  rewards  and  punishments  he 
acknowledges  that  one  affection  ''may  come  to  be  industriously 
nourished,  and  the  contrary  passion  depressed.  And  thus 
Temperance,  Modesty,  Candour,  Benignity,  and  other  good 
affections,  however  despised  at  first,  may  come  at  last  to  be 
valued  for  their  own  sakes,  the  contrary  species  rejected,  and 
the  good  and  proper  object  beloved  and  prosecuted,  when  the 
reward  or  punishment  is  not  so  much  as  thought  of.*'^ 

VI.  There  is  another  question,  affecting  the  very  existence 
of  Morals  as  an  independent  Science,  on  which  Shaftesbury 
diverged,  and  rightly  diverged,  from  his  master.  Locke  had 
maintained^  that  "the  true  ground  of  morality  can  only  be 
the  Will  and  Law  of  a  God,  who  sees  men  in  the  dark,  has 
in  his  hand  rewards  and  punishments,  and  power  enough  to 
call  to  account  the  proudest  off'ender.''    Similarly,  he  says 

8  Inquiry,  Book  I.,  Pc.  3,  §  3. 
Essay,  Book  I.,  Ch.  3,  §  6. 


88 


SHAFTESBURY. 


that  ^^tlie  Rule  prescribed  by  God  is  the  true  and  only 
measure  of  Virtue/''  though  this  rule  is  afterwards  determined 
to  be  conformity  with  what  tends  to  the  Public  Happiness. 
Shaftesbury,  however^  saw  that  to  make  moral  distinctions 
depend  solely  on  the  arbitrary  will  of  any  being*,  even  though 
it  VYcre  the  Supreme  Being  himself,  was  in  reality  to  abolish 
them  altogether,  or,  in  other  words,  to  make  them  unmeaning. 
As  is  so  clearly  pointed  out  by  Cudworth,  whose  Treatise 
concerning  Eternal  and  Immutahle  Morality,  though  written 
some  time  before  the  Characteristics^  was  not  published  till 
twenty  years  afterwards,  the  moral  attributes  of  the  Deity 
on  this  theory,  entirely  disappear.  If  what  is  right  and 
wrong,  good  and  evil,  depends  solely  on  the  Will  of  God, 
how  can  we  speak  of  God  Himself  as  good  ?  Goodness,  as 
one  of  the  Divine  attributes,  must,  on  this  hypothesis,  simply 
mean  the  conformity  of  God  to  His  own  Will.  "  Whoever 
thinks  there  is  a  God,'^  says  Shaftesbury,  "and  pretends 
formally  to  believe  that  he  is  just  and  good,  must  believe 
that  there  is  independently  such  a  thing  as  Justice  and  In- 
justice, Truth  and  Falsehood,  Right  and  Wrong,  according  to 
which  he  pronounces  that  God  is  just,  righteous,  and  true. 
If  the  mere  Will,  Decree,  or  Law  of  God  be  said  absolutely 
to  constitute  Right  or  Wrong,  then  are  these  latter  words  of 
no  significancy  at  all.  For  thus  if  each  part  of  a  contradiction 
were  affirmed  for  truth  by  the  supreme  power,  they  would 
consequently  become  true  But  to  say  of  any- 
thing that  it  is  just  or  unjust,  on  such  a  foundation  as  this, 
is  to  say  nothing,  or  to  speak  without  a  meaning.''^  ^ 
"  How,''''  he  says  in  another  place,^  can  Supreme  Goodness 
be  intelligible  to  those  who  know  not  what  Goodness  itself 
is  ?    Or  how  can  Virtue  be  understood  to  deserve  reward, 

*  Inquiry,  Book  I.,  Pt.  3,  §  2. 
6  Moralists,  Pt.  II.,  Sect.  3. 


SHAFTESBURY S  ETHICAL  THEORY,  89 


when  as  yet  its  merit  and  excellence  is  unknown.  We  begin 
surely  at  the  wrong  end,  when  we  would  prove  merit  by 
favour,  and  Order  by  a  Deity/* 

VII.  One  of  the  most  important  questions  which  can  be 
asked  with  regard  to  any  system  of  Ethics  is.  How  does  it 
solve  the  problem  of  Freedom  and  Necessity  ?  Is  the  Will 
free  to  act  as  it  chooses,  or  is  it  determined  by  motives  ?  Are 
our  actions  the  mere  resultants  of  our  previous  character 
together  with  the  particular  motives  now  operating,  or  is 
there  any  room  for  independence  of  volition,  a  Will  free  to 
make  the  weaker  become  the  stronger  motive,  a  cause  itself 
uncaused  ?  This  problem  which  in  all  ages  has  exercised  so 
much  of  human  ingenuity,  and  which  many  philosophers 
regard  as  yet  unsolved,  if  not  incapable  of  solution,  Shaftes- 
bury studiously  avoids.  There  is  no  passage  in  his  works,  so 
far  as  I  can  recollect,  having  any  direct  bearing  upon  the 
question.  And  this  reticence  is  entirely  in  accordance  with 
the  practical  bent  of  his  mind  and  the  conception  which  he 
had  formed  to  himself  of  the  objects  of  philosophy.  The 
question  of  Liberty  and  Necessity  is  speculative  rather  than 
practical, — I  might  almost  say,  metaphysical  rather  than 
ethical,  and,  as  such,  it  offers  no  interest  to  a  writer  whose 
aim  is  to  purify  human  nature  by  developing  a  more  refined 
moral  sense,  and  to  ameliorate  the  conditions  of  human  life 
by  enforcing  the  maxims  of  a  more  extended  benevolence. 

To  the  principal  questions  of  Ethics,  then,  Shaftesbury's 
answers  are,  in  brief,  that  our  moral  ideas,  the  distinctions  of 
virtue  and  vice,  right  and  wrong,  are  to  be  found  in  the  very 
make  and  constitution  of  our  nature ;  that  morality  is  inde- 
pendent of  theology,  actions  being  denominated  good  or  just, 
not  by  the  arbitrary  will  of  God,  but  in  virtue  of  some  quality 
existing  in  themselves  j  that  the  ultimate  test  of  a  right 


90 


SHAFTESBURY. 


action  is  its  tendency  to  promote  the  general  welfare ;  that 
we  have  a  peculiar  organ,  the  moral  sense,  analogous  to  taste 
in  art,  by  which  we  discriminate  between  characters  and 
actions  as  good  or  bad ;  that  the  higher  natures  among 
mankind  are  impelled  to  right  action,  and  deterred  from 
wrong  action,  partly  by  the  Moral  Sense,  partly  by  the  love 
and  reverence  of  a  just  and  good  God,  while  the  lower  natures 
are  mainly  influenced  by  the  opinions  of  others,  or  by  the 
hope  of  reward  and  the  fear  of  punishment;  that  appetite 
and  reason  both  concur  in  the  determination  of  action ;  lastly, 
that  the  question  whether  the  Will  does  or  does  not  possess 
any  freedom  of  choice,  irrespectively  of  character  and  motives, 
is  one  which  it  does  not  concern  the  moralist  to  solve. 

In  this  brief  resume  of  the  leading  questions  of  ethics,  the 
reader  will  at  once  be  struck  with  the  difficulty  of  reconciling 
the  answers  to  two  of  the  questions  proposed,  namely,  the 
nature  of  the  criterion  and  the  nature  of  the  approving  act. 
If  the  test  or  criterion  of  a  right  action  or  a  virtuous  quality 
be  its  tendency  to  promote  the  general  welfare,  surely,  it  may 
be  objected,  a  long  process  of  ratiocination  is  often  required,  in 
order  to  trace  consequencesand  compare  various  classesof  results. 
This  objection  contains  a  certain  amount,  but  a  certain  amount 
only,  of  truth.  In  the  first  place,  the  great  majority  of  men 
seldom  perform  this  process  of  tracing  an  action  into  its  remote 
consequences.  They  have  been  taught  or  have  come  insensibly 
to  regard  certain  actions  with  admiration  and  others  with 
abhorrence,  and,  as  soon  as  they  witness  an  action  either  of  the 
one  kind  or  the  other,  the  appropriate  feeling  is  excited.  Even 
here,  though  the  emotional  act,  the  exercise  of  the  "  Moral 
Sense,*^  is  the  more  prominent,  there  is  an  exercise  of  the 
Reason  as  well.  Before  the  sentiment  of  approbation  or  dis- 
approbation is  excited,  the  act  must  have  been  referred, 
however  rapidly  or  unconsciously,  to  a  class,  or  connected,  by 


SHAFTESBURY S  ETHICAL  THEORY,  91 


association,  with  other  acts  of  a  similar  kind.  Thus,  if  I 
detect  a  man  in  deceiving  me,  the  sentiment  of  disapprobation 
seems  to  be  at  once  excited,  but  between  the  steps  of  the 
discovery  and  the  feeling*  there  really  intervenes  a  reference  of 
the  particular  act  to  the  class  of  false  dealing,  or  an  associa- 
tion of  it  with  other  acts  of  the  same  kind  which  have  excited 
my  abhorrence  before.  In  either  case,  the  process  involves 
comparison  or  reflection,  that  is  to  say,  it  is  a  rational  one. 
Sometimes,  even  among  unreflective  men,  who,  of  course, 
form  the  great  majority  of  mankind,  the  rational  element  is 
far  more  prominent  than  in  the  cases  I  have  hitherto  described. 
Any  man,  who  is  at  all  capable  of  exercising  his  reason,  must 
at  times  consider  what  are  likely  to  be  the  particular  con- 
sequences of  his  own  actions  or  those  of  others,  or  what  would 
be  the  consequences  to  society  at  large  if  such  actions  were 
of  frequent  occurrence,  and,  in  such  a  case,  the  reasoning  pro- 
is  always  a  conscious,  and  often  a  lengthy  one.  While 
this  process  is  going  on,  the  character  of  the  act  is  as  yet 
undecided,  and,  consequently,  the  sentiment,  which  will 
ultimately  be  evoked,  is  in  abeyance.  But  if  this  be  so 
amongst  unreflective  men,  it  is  of  far  more  frequent  occurrence 
amongst  the  small  class  of  reflective  men.  No  circumstance 
is  more  characteristic  of  an  educated  and  thoughtful  man  than 
that  he  is  ready,  from  time  to  time,  to  review  his  moral 
judgments,  and  that  his  sentiments  of  approbation  or  dis- 
approbation, except  in  very  clear  cases,  are  only  expressed 
after  mature  deliberation.  He  sees,  or  tries  to  see,  all  the 
sides  of  a  question,  and  attempts  to  balance  all  the  various 
considerations  connected  with  it,  and  hence  his  judgments 
are,  as  a  rule,  far  more  sober  and  far  more  likely  to  be  true  to 
facts  than  those  of  ordinary  men.  In  all  eases,  then,  there  is 
a  rational  process  which  precedes  the  emotion  of  moral  appro- 
bation or  disapprobation,  though,  in  most  cases,  this  process  is 


92 


SHAFTESBURY. 


almost  instantaneous,,  and^  perhaps,  almost  unconscious ; 
while,  in  some  cases,  as  we  have  seen,  and  especially  amongst 
educated  men,  the  process  is  often  a  long*  and  complicated 
one.  Now  the  expressions  which  Shaftesbury  employs,  such 
as  Moral  Sense,  Sense  of  Right  and  Wrong,  a  Right  Taste, 
&c.,  as  well  as  his  whole  treatment  of  the  subject  of  moral 
approbation,  undoubtedly  tend  to  obscure  the  share  of  reason, 
while  they  tend  to  exaggerate  the  share  of  emotion,  in  our 
moral  judgments.  He  does  not,  indeed,  altogether  ignore  the 
rational  element,  but  he  passes  it  by  with  the  merest  recog- 
nition. Nor  is  this  fault  one  of  simply  theoretical  import,  a 
mere  defect  in  analysis.  Systems  like  those  of  Shaftesbury, 
Hutcheson,  and  Butler,  often  exercise  an  unfortunate  influence 
on  men,  in  the  way  of  inducing  or  confirming  the  habit  of 
forming  hasty  judgments  and  acting  on  insufficient  reflection. 
When  we  are  told  that  morality  is  a  matter  of  taste,  or  that 
we  have  only  to  exercise  a  "  Sense,''  or  consult  our  Conscience, 
in  order  to  know  what  is  right,  we  are  very  apt  to  act  or  to 
judge  on  our  first  impulse,  without  any  balancing  of  con- 
siderations or  any  allowance  for  circumstances.  In  nine  cases 
out  of  ten,  or  possibly  in  ninety-nine  out  of  a  hundred,  this 
course  may  be  the  right  one,  but  in  the  tenth  or  the  hundredth 
it  may  lead  to  most  disastrous  consequences,  or  to  most 
inequitable  judgments.  The  generality  of  men  have  much 
more  need  to  be  told  not  to  act  or  judge  without  due  con- 
sideration, than  to  be  told  to  act  up  to  their  convictions  or 
to  judge  according  to  their  preconceived  opinions.  It  is 
perfectly  true  that  we  ought  to  act  up  to  our  convictions,  or 
"  follow  conscience,'''  as  the  phrase  is,  and  that  we  ought  to 
judge  in  accordance  with  general  rules,  but  it  is  equally  true 
that  we  ought  to  be  constantly  engaged  in  reviewing,  com- 
paring, and  modifying  our  rules,  and  in  educating  and 
improving  our  consciences.    "  Let  any  plain,  honest  man/^ 


SHAFTESBURY'S  ETHICAL  THEORY,  93 


says  Butler/  "  before  he  engages  in  any  course  of  action,  ask 
himself,  Is  this  I  am  going  about  right,  or  is  it  wrong?  Is 
it  good,  or  is  it  evil  ?  I  do  not  in  the  least  doubt  but  that 
this  question  would  be  answered  agreeably  to  truth  and 
virtue,  by  almost  any  fair  man  in  almost  any  circumstance.^^ 
No  doubt  any  plain,  honest  man  would  give  an  answer  in 
accordance  with  the  average  moral  sentiment,  or .  perhaps 
slightly  in  advance  of  the  average  moral  sentiment,  of  the 
time  and  country  in  which  he  lived.  But  did  it  never  occur 
to  the  writer  that  there  are  plain,  honest  men  "  in  other 
countries  besides  England,  and  in  stages  of  civilization  very 
different  from  ours,  and  that  there  were  plain,  honest  men  " 
one,  two,  and  three  thousand  years  ago,  in  the  East  as  well  as 
the  West,  and  amongst  pagans  as  well  as  amongst  Jews  and 
Christians?  These  "plain,  honest  men,'^  could  they  be 
brought  together,  would  give  very  different  answers  on  many 
of  the  leading  or  more  perplexed  questions  of  conduct  both 
from  one  another,  and  from  the  plain,  honest  men  ^*  who 
lived  in  England  in  the  early  part  of  the  eighteenth  century. 
This  divergence  of  the  moral  sentiment  is  alone  sufficient  to 
show  that  the  decisions  of  the  "  moral  sense  ^'  or  "  conscience," 
cannot  be  treated  as  absolute.  A  number  of  "  consciences  " 
whose  decisions  differ  cannot  all  be  in  the  right.  That  a  man 
should  act  according  to  his  conscience,  that  is  to  say,  that  he 
should  not  act  contrary  to  his  convictions,  is  a  moral  truism  ; 
but  it  is  no  less  his  duty  to  take  every  precaution  in  his 
power  that  his  conscience  may  guide  him  to  a  true  decision. 
And  this  object  he  can  only  secure,  first,  by  constantly 
reviewing  and  correcting  his  moral  judgments  in  accordance 
with  the  best  lights  he  can  find,  so  as  to  adjust,  as  far  as 
possible,  his  sense  of  right  and  wrong  to  the  real  qualities  of 


'  Sermon  III, 


94  , 


SHAFTESBURY, 


actions,  and,  secondly,  by  taking  pains,  in  any  particular  case 
of  difficulty,  to  ascertain  and  weigh  all  the  circumstances  and 
considerations  bearing  on  the  point,  before  allowing  his  ethical 
emotions  to  be  enlisted  on  either  side. 

Shaftesbury's  analysis  of  the  act  of  moral  approbation  is, 
we  have  seen,  defective,  because  it  does  not  discriminate  with 
sufficient  precision  between  the  rational  and  emotional  elements 
in  our  moral  judgments ;  and  it  is  misleading,  because  it 
assigns  a  disproportionate  share  to  the  emotional  element  at 
the  expense  of  the  rational  element.  It  might  also  be  objected 
to  his  account  of  the  Moral  Sense  that,  though  it  admits  that 
this  sense  is  capable  of  cultivation  and  improvement,  it  does 
not  state  in  what  the  process  of  education  consists,  nor  make 
any  attempt  to  trace  the  stages  through  which  the  original 
germ  passes  into  the  matured  product.  But  investigations  of 
this  kind,  to  possess  any  value,  require  a  knowledge  of  the 
subtler  workings  of  association  which  was  beyond  Shaftes- 
bury's powers  of  psychological  analysis.  Locke  had  already 
enunciated  the  doctrines  and  some  of  the  laws  of  association, 
but  it  was  not  till  after  the  publication  of  the  writings  of 
Hartley  and  James  Mill  that  it  was  recognized  as  the  potent 
instrument  which  we  now  know  it  to  be. 

The  idea  that  our  moral  judgments  are  formed  by  a"  sense,*^ 
'^taste,^^or  relish,"  naturally  suggests  an  analogy  between 
Art  and  Morality,  Beauty  and  Virtue.  This  analogy,  which 
is  constantly  insisted  on  by  Shaftesbury,  seems  to  me  to  be 
too  refined  to  be  of  much  service  in  ethical  inquiry.  Take  a 
beautiful  picture.  In  what  does  its  beauty  consist?  In  the 
proportions  of  the  forms  and  in  a  certain  subtle  harmony  of 
colouring.  Take  a  moral  act.  What  is  it  that  constitutes  it 
moral?  Its  tendency,  at  least  according  to  Shaftesbury's 
system,  to  promote  the  general  welfare  or  the  good  of  man- 
kind.   Now  where,  at  first  sight,  is  the  resemblance  between 


SHAFTESBURTS  ETHICAL  THEORY.  95 


the  beautiful  picture  and  the  moral  act  ?  It  is  true  that  with 
a  little  ingenuity  we  may  find  such  a  resemblance,  which 
consists_,  I  presume,  in  the  act  being  proportional  to  the  needs 
and  constitution  of  human  society,  as  any  particular  form  in 
the  picture  is  proportional  to  the  rest  of  the  picture.  But, 
however  ingenious  this  point  of  view  may  be,  do  we  really 
throw  any  light  on  the  character  of  human  action,  or  the 
distinction  between  vice  and  virtue,  by  having  recourse  to 
what  I  must  venture  to  call  this  far-fetched  analogy  ?  And 
so,  again,  with  regard  to  a  virtuous  disposition.  A  disposition 
or  character  can  only  be  known  by  its  acts,  and  these  acts 
must  necessarily  be  isolated.  But  a  picture,  or  statue,  or  a 
landscape  may  be  seen  at  a  glance.  It  is  true  that  we  may 
reflect  on  the  nature  of  a  character  as  manifested  by  its  acts, 
and  contemplating  it,  with  a  certain  amount  of  mental  effort, 
as  a  whole,  speak  with  some  justice  of  its  being  harmonious  or 
well -balanced.  But,  though  the  analogy  is  certainly  less 
remote  here  than  in  the  case  of  virtuous  acts,  it  may  be 
questioned  whether  we  really  gain  anything  by  this  mode  of 
speaking.  The  conception  of  goodness is  surely  more 
appropriate,  whether  we  are  contemplating  acts  or  characters, 
than  that  of  "  beauty,^"*  and,  therefore,  why  introduce  a  meta- 
phor when  a  direct  expression  would  serve  oui-  purpose  better  ? 
And  yet  there  are  occasions  when,  in  order  to  express  our 
admiration  of  characters  or  actions,  we  seem  to  be  led  naturally 
to  select  such  words  as  grand,^-*  beautiful,'^  or  "  graceful.'" 
In  all  these  cases  I  think  it  will  be  found  that  the  characters 
or  actions  rise  far  above,  or,  at  least,  diverge  considerably  from 
the  average  standard  of  excellence,  and  that,  consequently, 
the  ordinary  ethical  expressions  being  inadequate  to  convey 
our  meaning,  we  are  compelled  to  have  recourse  to  metaphor. 
But  this  is  a  well-known  device  of  language  which  is  by  no 
means  peculiar  to  morals. 


96 


SHAFTESBURY. 


Another  distinctive  feature  of  Shaftesbury's  system  remains 
to  be  noticed.  I  have  already  pointed  out  that,  in  the  economy 
of  human  nature,  he  lays  an  undue  stress  on  the  benevolent 
affections.  It  would,  indeed,  be  no  unfair  description  of  his 
ethical  theory  to  say  that,  according  to  him,  the  goodness  of 
man  consists  in  the  possession  and  exercise  of  these  affections, 
and  virtue  in  what  may  be  called  conscious  and  approved 
benevolence.^  Hence  his  system  and  that  of  Hutcheson 
have  often  been  distinguished  as  the  Benevolent  Theory  of 
Ethics.  It  must  not  be  supposed  that  either  the  one  author 
or  the  other  denied  the  necessity  of  a  due  regard  to  one's  own 
interests ;  for,  if  every  man  were  absolutely  careless  about  his 
own  welfare,  human  affairs  would,  obviously,  soon  come  to  a 
standstill,  not  to  say  that,  whatever  care  others  might 
endeavour  to  take  of  him,  the  individual,  if  he  took  no  care 
whatever  of  himself,  must  speedily  perish.  But  Shaftesbury, 
as  we  have  already  seen,^  looked  on  what  are  usually  called 
the  self-regarding  virtues  rather  as  conditions  of  virtue  than 
as  themselves  virtues;  and  Hutcheson,  as  we  shall  see  pre- 
sently,* going  still  further  than  Shaftesbury,  maintained  that 
actions  which  flow  solely  from  self-love  "  seem  perfectly  in- 
different in  a  moral  sense,  and  neither  raise  the  love  or  hatred 
of  the  observer.'^  Yet,  if  a  man,  in  spite  of  difficulties  and 
temptations,  is  cleanly,  temperate,  chaste,  and  frugal,  and 
shows  a  due  sense  of  his  own  independence  and  dignity,  does 
he  excite  no  admiration  in  us  ?  And,  on  the  other  hand,  if 
he  is  brutal,  grovelling,  and  incapable  of  exercising  any  self- 

^  See,  for  instance,  Inquiry,  Book  I.,  Pt.  2,  §  3,  Pt.  3,  §  1.  A  man  is 
good,  if  his  affections  be  adapted  to  promote  the  welfare  of  the  species ; 
but  he  can  only  be  called  virtuous,  if,  on  reflection,  he  approves  such 
affections  and  the  acts  which  flow  from  them,  and  disapproves  the 
contrary 

»  See  p.  67.  >  See  p.  194. 


SHAFTESBURY'S  ETHICAL  THEORY.  97 


control,  does  he  not  move  our  disgu^^t  and  hatred  ?  Take  the 
quality  of  Temperance  alone.  Whatever  be  our  theory  of 
virtue,  whether  we  regard  it  as  a  habit  conducive  to  the 
public  good,  or  as  a  self-realization  of  the  individual,  or  as 
obedience  to  law,  whether  civil,  divine,  or  natural ;  in  any 
case,  does  it  not  seem  preposterous  to  say  that  Temperance  is 
not  a  virtue,  or  Intemperance  a  vice?  It  is  perfectly  true 
that  if  a  man  had  the  self-regarding  virtues,  but  were  de- 
ficient in  the  benevolent  virtues,  and  especially  in  the  supreme 
virtue  of  justice,  we  should  not,  on  the  whole,  call  him  a  good 
or  virtuous  man.  But  neither,  as  I  have  already  said,^  could 
we  properly  call  a  man  good  or  virtuous,  taking  his  character 
as  a  whole,  if  he  were  distinctly  lacking  in  the  personal 
virtues,  however  kindly,  liberal,  and  just  he  might  be  to 
others.  The  latter  case  is,  indeed,  far  less  common  than  the 
former.  For  it  is  proverbial  that,  if  a  man  does  not  care  for 
himself,  he  is  not  likely  to  care  much  for  other  people ; 
whereas  those  who  stop  short  at  a  regard  for  themselves  are, 
unfortunately,  only  too  numerous.  And  it  may  have  been 
this  comparative  rarity  of  the  extra-regarding  or  benevolent 
virtues  (of  which  group  I  regard  justice  as  not  only  a 
member,  but  as  the  principal  member)  which  led  Shaftesbury 
and  Hutcheson  to  assign  to  them  so  disproportionate  a  value. 
These  virtues  are,  indeed,  essential  alike  to  the  well-being  of 
human  society  and  to  the  moral  perfection  of  the  individual, 
and  they  are  the  crown  and  flower  of  all  virtues,  but  still  it 
is  a  mistake  to  ignore  the  fact  that  there  is  another  group  of 
virtues,  equally  essential,  though  it  may  be  less  rare,  and  less 
lovely. 

To  those  who  are  acquainted  with  the  ancient  writers  on 
Ethics  it  will  be  plain  that  Shaftesbury  is  indebted  to  them 


'  See  p.  76. 


H 


98 


SHAFTESBURY, 


for  many  of  his  most  characteristic  ideas.  Thus,  the  analogy 
between  Art  and  Morals,  Beauty  and  Virtue,  which  is  of 
such  frequent  occurrence  in  his  writings,  is  evidently  derived  - 
from  Plato.  The  idea  that  man  is  naturally  a  social  animal, 
and  that  society  has  its  origin  in  the  family  union,  will 
remind  every  classical  reader  of  Aristotle's  Politics  and  the 
Third  Book  of  Plato's  Laws.  Again,  the  idea  of  a  due 
balance  among  the  passions  and  affections,  or  that  the  various 
parts  of  man's  nature  should  be  so  harmonized  that  no  one 
should  be  developed  in  excess  of  the  others,  is  derived  from 
the  Republic  of  Plato  and  the  Ethics  of  Aristotle.  To  take 
one  more  instance,  such  a  passage  as  the  following,  which 
embodies  an  idea  of  frequent  recurrence  throughout  the 
Characteristics,  could  hardly  have  been  written  by  any  one 
who  was  not  thoroughly  imbued  with  the  spirit  of  the  stoical 
philosophy  : — 

"  Can  you  not  call  to  mind  what  we  resolved  concerning 
Nature  ?  Can  anything  be  more  desirable  than  to  folloio 
her?  Or  is  it  not  by  this  freedom  from  our  passions  and 
low  interests,  that  we  are  reconciled  to  the  goodly  Order  of 
the  Universe  ;  that  we  harmonize  with  Nature ;  and  live  in 
friendship  both  with  God  and  Man  ? ''  ^ 

It  would  have  been  strange  indeed,  had  the  tastes  o£  an 
author  so  devoted  to  the  study  of  classical  literature  as 
Shaftesbury  not  been  reflected  in  his  ethical  writings.  But, 
perhaps,  it  would  not  be  too  much  to  say  that  there  is  no 
modern  writer   whose   views   on   morals    approximate  so 

^  Moralists,  Part  III.,  Sect.  3.  Other  instances  of  Stoical  doctrines 
adopted  by  Shaftesbury  are  that  "  Providence  has  placed  our  happiness 
and  good  in  things  we  can  bestow  upon  ourselves,"  that  *'  Happiness  is 
from  within,  not  from  without,"  and  that  "  Opinion,"  that  is  the  suppo- 
sition we  form  about  things,  "  is  all  in  all." 


SHAFTESBURTS  ETHICAL  THEORY,  99 


closely  to  the  classical  way  of  thinking  on  these  subjects  as 
do  his. 

Of  previous  English  writers,  those  to  whom  he  most 
frequently  refers  or  alludes  are  Hobbes  and  Locke.  To  the 
distinctive  tenets  in  moral  and  political  philosophy  of  Hobbes, 
namely,  that  a  state  of  mere  nature  "  is  a  state  of  war  of 
every  man  against  every  man,^^  that  civil  society  is  based  on 
a  contract,  and  that  there  is  in  mankind  no  such  thing  as 
disinterested  aifection,  not  originating  in  self-love,  we  have 
already  seen  that  Shaftesbury  declares  himself  in  direct  and 
emphatic  opposition.^     There  can,  in  fact,  be  little  doubt 

The  following  passage  affords  so  acute  a  criticism  of  Hobbes'  main 
theory,  that  I  think  it  well  to  append  it,  both  on  account  of  its  intrinsic 
value  and  also  as  furnishing  a  good  example  of  Shaftesbury's  argumen- 
tative power : — 

"  'Tis  ridiculous  to  say,  there  is  any  obligation  on  man  to  act  sociably, 
or  honestly,  in  a  formed  Government,  and  not  in  that  which  is  commonly 
called  the  State  of  Nature.  For  to  speak  in  the  fashionable  language  of 
our  modern  philosophy :  '  Society  being  founded  on  a  compact,  the 
surrender  made  of  every  man's  private  unlimited  right  into  the  hands  of 
the  majority,  or  such  as  the  majority  should  appoint,  was  of  free  choice 
and  by  a  promise.'  Now  the  Promise  itself  was  made  in  the  State  of 
Nature.  And  that  which  could  make  a  Promise  obligatory  in  the  State  of 
Nature  must  make  all  other  acts  of  humanity  as  much  our  real  duty  and 
natural  part.  Thus  Faith,  Justice,  Honesty,  and  Virtue  must  have  been 
as  early  as  the  State  of  Nature,  or  they  could  never  have  been  at  all. 
The  Civil  Union  or  Confederacy  could  never  make  Eight  or  Wrong,  if 
they  subsisted  not  before.  He  who  was  free  to  any  villainy  before  his 
contract  will  and  ought  to  make  as  free  with  his  contract,  when  he  thinks 
fit.  The  Natural  Knave  has  the  same  reason  to  be  a  Civil  one,  and  may 
dispense  with  his  politic  capacity  as  oft  as  he  sees  occasion.  'Tis  only  his 
word  stands  in  his  way. — A  man  is  obliged  to  keep  his  word.  Why  ? 
Because  he  has  given  his  word  to  keep  it. — Is  not  this  a  notable  account 
of  the  original  of  moral  justice,  and  the  rise  of  civil  government  and 
allegiance ! "  Essay  on  the  Freedom  of  Wit  and  Humour,  Part  III., 
Sect.  1. 

H  % 


100 


SHAFTESBURY. 


that,  like  most  of  the  other  ethical  writers  of  this  time,  he  was 
mainly  impelled  to  his  task  through  the  shock  which  had 
been  given  to  the  current  moral  sentiment  by  the  paradoxes  of 
Hobbes,  and  through  the  desire  to  arrest  the  progress  of  doc- 
trines at  which  society  was  then  seriously  alarmed.  Shaftes- 
bury appears  to  have  conceived  it  as  his  special  mission  to 
undertake  this  work,  not  as  a  pedant "  or  a  "  schoolman,^^ 
but  as  a  "  man  of  taste/' 

It  was  probably  in  accordance  with  this  conception  that  he 
refrained  from  using  the  language  about  the  ^Haws  of  nature,' 
which  had  hitherto  been  current  in  ethical  treatises,  and  that 
he  preferred  to  represent  morality  as  a  matter  of  "  taste,'* 
"  sentiment,^'  or  affection,''  rather  than  as  dictated  simply 
by  reason.  These  differences  alone  are  sufficient  to  distinguish 
him  from  writers  like  Cumberland,  Cudworth,  and  Clarke, 
though,  in  making  benevolent  acts  and  dispositions  the 
special  objects  of  moral  approbation,  he  is,  to  a  great  extent, 
anticipated  by  Cumberland,  whose  influence  on  subsequent 
moralists  has,  perhaps,  hardly  been  sufficiently  recognized. 

Of  Shaftesbury's  own  influence  on  other  writers  and  of  his 
relation  to  subsequent  schools  of  ethics,  I  shall  speak  presently 
in  a  separate  chapter. 

Before  concluding  this  chapter,  however,  I  must  say  a  few 
words  on  the  marked  hostility  with  which  Shaftesbury,  in  his 
character  of  a  moralist,  attacks  the  doctrines  of  Locke.  I 
have  already,  in  the  last  chapter,  drawn  attention  to  the 
vehement  passage  directed  against  Locke's  philosophy  in  one 
of  the  letters  to  Michael  Ainsworth.^  There  he  speaks  of 
Locke's  ethical  theory  as  throwing  all  order  and  virtue  out 
of  the  world,  and  making  the  very  ideas  of  them  unnatural." 
These  words,  of  course,  are  aimed  at  Locke's  denial  of  the 


»  See  p.  45. 


SHAFTESBURY S  ETHICAL  THEORY,  loi 


innate,  or,  as  Shaftesbury  would  amend  the  word,  con-natural 
origin  of  our  moral  ideas.  In  the  Inquiry  concerning  Virtue, 
though  Locke  is  not  expressly  named,  there  is  an  equally 
vehement  protest  against  what  may  be  called  the  cardinal 
doctrines  of  his  ethical  system,  namely,  that  moral  distinctions 
depend  solely  on  the  arbitrary  will  of  God,  and  that  they  are 
mainly  enforced  by  the  supernatural  sanctions  of  hope  of. 
future  reward  and  fear  of  future  punishment.  Indeed,  no 
two  systems  could  well  be  more  opposed  on  many  points  than 
are  those  of  Shaftesbury  and  his  tutor.  According  to  Locke, 
"  the  true  and  only  measure  of  virtue  is  the  Will  of  God, 
as  revealed  either  in  the  Scriptures  or  by  the  Light  of  Nature. 
The  only  means  of  ascertaining  that  Will  is  the  use  of  the 
reason,  deducing  rules  of  action  either  from  the  expressed 
commands  of  God  in  the  Old  and  New  Testaments,  or,  which 
he  seems  to  contemplate  as  the  commoner  case,  from  con- 
siderations of  public  welfare,  "  God  having,  by  an  inseparable 
connexion,  joined  virtue  and  public  happiness  together."  The 
main  sanctions  of  this  will  and  law  of  a  God,  who  sees  men 
in  the  dark,-"  are  the  rewards  and  punishments  which  He 
holds  in  His  hand.  "  By  the  fault  is  the  rod,  and  with  the 
transgression  a  fire  ready  to  punish  it.''  Shaftesbury,  on  the 
other  hand,  maintained  that,  independently  of  any  commands 
or  prohibitions,  whether  of  God  or  man,  actions  are  intrinsi- 
cally right  or  wrong,  just  or  unjust ;  though,  at  the  same  time, 
he  agreed  with  Locke  in  adopting  as  the  test  or  criterion  of  a 
right  action  its  tendency  to  promote  the  public  interests  or 
the  general  good  of  mankind.  The  character  of  an  action, 
however,  was  to  be  ascertained,  not  so  much  by  reasoning,  as 
by  a  subtle  and  delicate  sense,  capable,  indeed,  of  improvement 
by  discipline,  culture,  and  education,  but  the  natural  and 
inalienable  heritage  of  every  man  from  his  birth.  Lastly, 
the  incentives  to  well-doing  and  the  deterrents  from  evil-doing 


102 


SHAFTESBURY, 


are  to  be  sought  not  solely,  or  even  mainly,  in  the  opinion  of 
mankind,  or  in  the  rewards  and  punishments  o£  the  magis- 
trate, or  in  the  hopes  and  terrors  of  a  future  world,  but  in  the 
answer  of  a  good  conscience,  approving  virtue  and  disap- 
proving vice,  and  in  the  love  of  a  God,  who,  by  His  infinite 
wisdom  and  His  all-embracing  beneficence,  is  worthy  of  the 
love  and  admiration  of  His  creatures. 


CHAPTER  IV. 


Shaftesbury's  theories  on  religion,  beauty,  and  art. 

The  articles  of  Shaftesbuiy^s  religious  creed  were  few  and 
simple,  but  these  he  entertained  with  a  conviction  amounting 
to  enthusiasm.  They  may  briefly  be  summed  up  as  a  belief 
in  one  God,  whose  most  characteristic  attribute  is  universal 
benevolence,  in  the  moral  government  of  the  Universe,  and 
in  a  future  state  of  man,  making  up  for  the  imperfections  and 
repairing  the  inequalities  of  this  present  life. 

The  existence  of  God  is  proved  by  the  order  and  marks  of 
design  which  appear  in  the  Universe.  "  If  there  be  di\  ine 
excellence  in  things ;  if  there  be  in  Nature  a  supreme  mind 
or  Deity  :  we  have  then  an  object  consummate,  and  compre- 
hensive of  all  which  is  good  or  excellent.  And  this  object, 
of  all  others,  must  of  necessity  be  the  most  amiable,  the  most 
engaging,  and  of  highest  satisfaction  and  enjoyment.  Now 
that  there  is  such  a  principal  object  as  this  in  the  World^  the 
World  alone  (if  I  may  say  so)  by  its  wise  and  perfect  order 
must  evince." 

Familiar  as  this  argument  has  now  become^  Shaftesbury's 
presentation  of  it  is  sufficiently  characteristic  to  merit  a  more 
detailed  statement : — 

All  things  in  this  world  are  united.  For,  as  the  branch 
is  united  with  the  tree,  so  is  the  tree  as  immediately  with 

1  Moralists,  Pt.  II.,  Sect.  3. 


104 


SHAFTESBURY. 


the  earth,  air,  and  water,  which  feed  it.  As  much  as  the 
fertile  mould  is  fitted  to  the  tree,  as  much  as  the  strong  and 
upright  trunk  of  the  oak  or  elm  is  fitted  to  the  twining 
branches  of  the  vine  or  ivy  :  so  much  are  the  very  leaves,  the 
seeds,  and  fruits  of  these  trees  fitted  to  the  various  animals, 
these  again  to  one  another,  and  to  the  elements  where  they 
live,  and  to  which  they  are,  as  appendices,  in  a  manner  fitted 
and  joined,  as  either  by  wings  for  the  air,  fins  for  the  water, 
feet  for  the  earth,  and  by  other  correspondent  inward  parts  of 
a  more  curious  frame  and  texture.  Thus,  in  contemplating 
all  on  earth,  we  must  of  necessity  view  All  in  One,  as  holding 
to  one  common  stock.  Thus  too  is  the  system  of  the  bigger 
world.  See  there  the  mutual  dependency  of  things ! — the 
relation  of  one  to  another  ;  of  the  sun  to  tfns  inhabited  earth, 
and  of  the  earth  and  other  planets  to  the  sun  ! — the  order, 
union,  and  coherence  of  the  Whole  !  And  know  that  by  this 
survey  you  will  be  obliged  to  own  the  Universal  System  and 
coherent  scheme  of  things  to  be  established  on  abundant 
proof,  capable  of  convincing  any  fair  and  just  contemplator 
of  the  works  of  nature.  For  scarce  would  any  one,  till  he 
had  well  surveyed  this  universal  scene,  believe  an  union  thus 
evidently  demonstrable  by  such  numerous  and  powerful 
instances  of  mutual  correspondency  and  relation,  from  the 
minutest  ranks  and  orders  of  beings  to  the  remotest  spheres ! 

"  Now,  having  recognized  this  uniform  consistent  fabric, 
and  owned  the  Universal  System,  we  must  of  consequence 
acknowledge  a  Universal  Mind ;  which  no  ingenious 
[ingenuous]  man  can  be  tempted  to  disown,  except  through 
the  imagination  of  Disorder  in  the  Universe,  its  seat.  For 
can  it  be  supposed  of  any  one  in  the  world  that,  being  in 
some  desert  far  from  men,  and  hearing  there  a  perfect 
symphony  of  music,  or  seeing  an  exact  pile  of  regular  archi- 


THEORIES  ON  RELIGION,  BEA  UTY,  &  ART.  105 


tecture  arising  gradually  from  the  earth  in  all  its  orders  and 
proportions^  he  should  be  persuaded  that^  at  the  bottom,  there 
was  no  design  accompanying  this,  no  secret  spring  of  thought, 
no  active  mind  ?  Would  he,  because  he  saw  no  hand,  deny 
the  handywork,  and  suppose  that  each  of  these  complete  and 
perfect  systems  were  framed,  and  thus  united  in  just  sym- 
metry and  conspiring  order,  either  by  the  accidental  blowing 
of  the  winds  or  rolling  of  the  sands  ?  ^ 

But  it  is  not  necessary  to  go  out  into  the  ''bigger  world 
to  find  God.  We  may  recognize  Him  in  the  microcosm  of 
ourselves,  either  by  direct  intuition  or  by  an  inference  from 
such  intuition.  In  vain  we  labour  to  understand  that 
principle  of  Sense  and  Thought,  which,  seeming  in  us  to 
depend  so  much  on  Motion,  yet  differs  so  much  from  it, 
and  from  Matter  itself,  as  not  to  suffer  us  to  conceive  how 
Thought  can  more  result  from  this,  than  this  arise  from 
Thought.  But  Thought  we  own  pre-eminent,  and  confess  the 
reallest  of  Beings ;  the  only  existence  of  which  we  are  made 
sure  by  being  conscious.  All  else  may  be  only  dream  and 
shadow.  All  which  even  Sense  suggests  may  be  deceitful. 
The  Sense  itself  remains  still ;  Reason  subsists ;  and  Thought 
maintains  its  eldership  of  being.  Thus  are  we  in  a  manner 
conscious  of  the  original  and  eternally  existent  Thought, 
whence  we  derive  our  own.  And  thus  the  assurance  we  have 
of  the  existence  of  beings  above  our  Sense,  and  of  Thee  (the 
great  exemplar  of  Thy  works),  comes  from  Thee,  the  All- 
True  and  Perfect,  who  hast  thus  communicated  Thyself  more 
immediately  to  us,  so  as  in  some  manner  to  inhabit  within 
our  souls ;  Thou  who  art  Original  Soul,  diffusive,  vital  in  all, 
inspiriting  the  Whole.^^  But  the  idea  which  we  are  thus 
competent  to  acquire  by  self-introspection,  is  amplified  and 


2  Moralists,  Pt.  II.,  Sect.  4 


io6 


SHAFTESBURY. 


perfected  by  the  contemplation  of  external  nature.  All 
Nature^s  wonders  serve  to  excite  and  perfect  this  idea  of  their 
Author.  'Tis  here  he  suffers  us  to  see  and  even  to  converse 
with  Him,  in  a  manner  suitable  to  our  frailty.  How  glorious 
is  it  to  contemplate  Him  in  this  noblest  of  his  works  apparent 
to  us,  the  system  of  the  bigger  world.^^  ^ 

It  has  sometimes  been  supposed  that  Shaftesbury  identified 
God  with  Nature.  This,  however,  I  think,  was  not  the  case. 
Witness  the  following  passages  :  — 

"  I  only  know  that  both  theirs  (that  is,  the  natures  of 
trees)  "  and  all  other  natures  must  for  their  duration  depend 
alone  on  that  Nature  on  which  the  world  depends;  and  that  every 
genius  else  must  be  subordinate  to  that  One  good  Genius, 
whom  I  would  willingly  persuade  you  to  think  belonging  to 
this  world,  according  to  our  present  way  of  speaking.'^ 

**If  it  (compounded  matter)  "can  present  us  with  so 
many  innumerable  instances  of  particular  forms,  who  share 
this  simple  Principle  by  which  they  are  really  One,  live,  act, 
and  have  a  Nature  or  Genius  peculiar  to  themselves  and 
provident  for  their  own  welfare;  how  shall  we  at  the  same 
time  overlook  this  in  the  whole,  and  deny  the  Great  and 
General  One  of  the  World?  How  can  we  be  so  unnatural 
as  to  disown  Divine  Nature,  our  common  Parent,  and  refuse 
to  recognize  the  universal  and  sovereign  Genius  ?  ^ 

From  these  and  other  passages  we  may  infer  that  Shaftes- 
bury conceived  the  relation  of  God  to  the  World  as  that  of 
the  soul  to  the  body.  Nature  is,  as  it  were,  the  vesture  of 
God,  and  God  the  soul  of  the  Universe.  The  idea  of  an 
Anima  Mundi  had  been  familiar  to  many  of  the  ancients, 
whether,  as  with  Plato,  they  regarded  it  as  itself  a  created 


8  Moralists,  Pt.  III.,  Sect.  1. 
*  Id. 


6  Id. 


THEORIES  ON  RELIGION,  BEA  UTY,  &  ART.  107 


beiDg,  or,  as  with  the  Stoics,  they  identified  it  with  the 
Supreme  Creator,  or  rather  Fashioner,  of  the  Universe,  God 
Himself.  Almost  within  our  own  times,  this  idea  of  a  Soul 
of  the  World  has  been  revived  by  Schelling.  To  most  of  my 
readers,  Shaftesbury's  thought  will  recall  the  well-known 
lines  of  Pope  in  which  it  is  enshrined,  and  which  it  probably 
suggested ; — 

"  All  are  but  parts  of  one  stupendous  whole, 
Whose  body  nature  is,  and  God  the  soul/'  * 

If  there  are  difficulties  in  the  way  of  conceiving  an  Uni- 
versal Mind,  animating  and  governing  nature,  there  are 
similar  difficulties  in  the  way  of  conceiving  a  Self  or  particular 
Mind,  animating  and  governing  our  own  bodies.  For  be 
the  difficulty  ever  so  great,  it  stands  the  same,  you  may 
perceive,  against  your  own  Being,  or  against  that  which  I  am 
pretending  to  convince  you  of.  You  may  raise  what  objec- 
tions you  please  on  either  hand ;  and  your  dilemma  may  be 
of  notable  force  against  the  manner  of  such  a  Supreme  Being's 
existence.  But,  after  you  have  done  all,  you  will  bring  the 
same  dilemma  home  to  you,  and  be  at  a  loss  still  about  Your- 
Self.  When  you  have  argued  ever  so  long  upon  these  meta- 
physical points  of  Mode  and  Substance,  and  have  philosophi- 
cally concluded  from  the  difficulties  of  each  hypothesis  that 
there  cannot  be  in  Nature  such  a  Universal-One  as  this,  you 
must  conclude,  from  the  same  reasons,  that  there  cannot  be 
any  such  particular-one  as  Your- Self.  But  that  there  is 
actually  such  a  one  as  this  latter,  your  own  mind,  'tis  hoped, 
may  satisfy  you.  And  of  this  Mind  it  is  enough  to 'say, 
"  That  it  is  something  which  acts  upon  a  body,  and  has  some- 
thing passive  under  it  and  subject  to  it :  That  it  has  not  only 
body  or  mere  matter  for  its  subject,  but  in  some  respect  even 


•  Pope's  Essay  on  Man,  Ep.  1.,  267,  8 


io8 


SHAFTESBURY, 


itself  too  and  what  proceeds  from  it :  That  it  superintends 
and  manages  its  own  imaginations,  appearances,  fancies ;  cor- 
recting, working,  and  modelling  these,  as  it  finds  good,  and 
adorning  and  accomplishing,  the  best  it  can,  this  composite 
Order  of  Body  and  Understanding/'  Such  a  Mind  and 
governing  part,  I  know  there  is  somewhere  in  the  world.  Let 
Pyrrho,  by  the  help  of  such  another,  contradict  me,  if  he 
pleases.  We  have  our  several  understandings  and  thoughts, 
however  we  came  by  them.  Each  understands  and  thinks  the 
best  he  can  for  his  own  purpose  :  He  for  Himself ;  I  for 
another   Self.    And  who  I  beseech  you  for  the  Whole? 

 Is  not  this  Nature  still  a  Self?    Or,  tell  me,  I 

beseech  you.  How  are  You  one  ?  By  what  token  ?  or  by 
virtue  of  what?  '^By  a  Principle  which  joins  certain  parts, 
and  which  thinks  and  acts  consonantly  for  the  use  and  pur- 
pose of  those  parts. Say,  therefore,  what  is  your  whole 
system  a  part  of  ?  or  is  it,  indeed,  no  part,  but  a  whole,  by  it- 
self, absolute,  independent,  and  unrelated  to  anything  besides  ? 
If  it  be  indeed  a  part,  and  really  related ;  to  what  else,  I 
beseech  you,  than  to  the  Whole  of  Nature  ?  Is  there  then 
such  a  uniting  principle  in  Nature  ?  If  so,  how  are  you  then 
a  Self,  and  Nature  not  so  ?  How  have  you  something  to 
understand  and  act  for  you,  and  Nature,  who  gave  this  under- 
standing, nothing  at  all  to  understand  for  her,  advise  her, 
or  help  her  out  (poor  Being  !)  on  any  occasion,  whatever 
necessity  she  may  be  in  ?  Has  the  World  such  ill-fortune  in 
the  main  ?  Are  there  so  many  particular  understanding  active 
principles  everywhere?  And  is  there  nothing,  at  last,  which 
thinks,  acts,  or  understands  for  All  ?  Nothing  which  ad- 
ministers or  looks  after  All  ?  ' 

The  Universal  Mind  is  not  only  all-powerful  and  all-wise, 
but  perfectly  good.      There  can  be  no  malice  but  where 

7  MoraHsts,  Pt.  III.,  Sect.  1. 


THEORIES  ON  RELIGION,  BEAUTY,  &  ART.  109 


interests  are  opposed.  A  Universal  Being  can  have  no  interest 
opposite;  and  therefore  can  have  no  malice.  If  there  be  a 
general  mind,  it  can  have  no  particular  interest;  but  the 
general  good,  or  good  of  the  whole,  and  its  own  private  good 
must  o£  necessity  be  one  and  the  same.  It  can  intend  nothing 
besides,  nor  aim  at  anything  beyond,  nor  be  provoked  to  any- 
thing contrary.  So  that  we  have  only  to  consider  whether 
there  be  really  such  a  thing  as  a  Mind  which  has  relation  to 
the  Whole  or  not.  If  there  be  really  a  mind_,  we  may  rest 
satisfied  that  it  is  the  best-natured  one  in  the  world.''^  ® 

From  the  perfect  wisdom  and  goodness  and  the  supreme 
power  of  the  Deity  it  follows  that,  if  Nature  be  regarded  as  a 
whole,  everything,  regarded  with  reference  to  that  whole,  must 
be  for  the  best.    As  Shaftesbury's  disciple  afterwards  wrote  : 
"  All  nature  is  but  art,  unknown  to  thee ; 

All  chance  direction,  which  thou  canst  not  see ; 

All  discord,  harmony  not  understood; 

All  partial  evil,  universal  good."  ' 

Eeplying  to  a  supposed  objector,  at  the  beginning  of  the 
Moralists,^  Shaftesbury,  in  the  person  of  Philocles,  thus 
describes  the  confessions  which  he  has  wrung  from  him : — 

"  That  such  a  hazardous  affair  as  this  of  Creation  should  have 
been  undertaken  by  those  who  had  not  perfect  foresight  as  well 
as  command,  you  owned  was  neither  wise  nor  just.  But  you 
stood  to  Foresight.  You  allowed  the  consequences  to  have 
been  understood  by  the  creating  powers,  when  they  undertook 
their  work ;  and  you  denied  that  it  would  have  been  better 
for  them  to  have  omitted  it,  though  they  knew  what  would 
be  the  event.  ^Twas  better  still  that  the  project  should  be 
executed,  whatever  might  become  o£  mankind,  or  how  hard 

®  Letter  concerning  Enthusiasm,  Sect.  6, 
»  Pope's  Essay  on  Man,  Ep.  I.  289-92. 
»  Pt.  I.,  Sect.  2. 


no 


SHAFTESBURY. 


soever  such  a  creation  was  like  to  fall  on  the  generality  of 
this  miserable  race.  For  -'twas  impossible,  you  thought,  that 
Heaven  should  have  acted  otherwise  than  for  the  best.  So 
that  even  from  this  misery  and  111  of  Man,  there  was  un- 
doubtedly some  Good  arising  ;  something  which  overbalanced 
all,  and  made  full  amends/' 

In  a  later  passage,^  after  describing  the  successive  steps  by 
which  the  mind  rises  from  the  contemplation  of  beauty  in 
particular  forms  to  the  observation  of  universal  order  and  the 
intuition  of  supreme  beauty,  he  proceeds  to  ^'  vindicate  the 
works  of  God  to  man  in  a  still  bolder  strain  :  Much  is 
alleged,  in  answer,  to  show  why  Nature  errs,  and  how  she 
came  thus  impotent  and  erring  from  an  unerring  hand.  But 
I  deny  she  errs ;  and,  when  she  seems  most  ignorant  or 
perverse  in  her  productions,  I  assert  her  even  then  as  wise 
and  provident  as  in  her  goodliest  works.  For  'tis  not  then 
that  men  complain  of  the  world's  order  or  abhor  the  face  of 
things,  when  they  see  various  interests  mixed  and  interfering; 
natures  subordinate,  of  different  kinds,  opposed  one  to  another, 
and  in  their  different  operations  submitted,  the  higher  to  the 
lower.  'Tis,  on  the  contrary,  from  this  order  of  inferior  and 
superior  things  that  we  admire  the  world's  beauty,  founded 
thus  on  contrarieties ;  whilst  from  such  various  and  disagree- 
ing principles  a  universal  concord  is  established  

Here  then  is  that  solution  you  require ;  and  hence  those 
seeming  blemishes  cast  upon  Nature.  Nor  is  there  ought  in 
this  beside  what  is  natural  and  good.  'Tis  Good  which  is 
predominant;  and  every  corruptible  and  mortal  nature  by  its 
mortality  and  corruption  yields  only  to  some  better,  and  all 
in  common  to  that  best  and  highest  Nature,  which  is  incor- 
ruptible and  immortal." 

Objections  to  this  idea  of  the  Universe  being  constructed 

2  Pt.  I.,  Sect.  3. 


THEORIES  ON  RELIGION,  BE  A  UTY,  &  ART,  iii 


on  a  perfect  scheme  are  met  by  Shaftesbury,  as  by  so  many 
other  theologians  and  philosophers,  with  the  appeal  to  our 
ignorance  and  the  finite  nature  of  our  capacities^ — to  the 
principle  that 

"  'Tis  but  a  part  we  see,  and  not  the  whole." 

^'Now,  in  this  mighty  Union,  if  there  be  such  relations  of 
parts  one  to  another  as  are  not  easily  discovered,  if  on  this 
account  the  end  and  use  of  things  does  not  everywhere  appear, 
there  is  no  wonder :  since  'tis  no  more  indeed  than  what  must 
happen  of  necessity.  Nor  could  Supreme  Wisdom  have 
otherwise  ordered  it.  For,  in  an  infinity  of  things  thus 
relative,  a  mind  which  sees  not  infinitely  can  see  nothing 
fully.  And,  since  each  particular  has  relations  to  all  in 
general,  it  can  know  no  perfect  or  true  relation  of  anything  in 
a  world  not  perfectly  and  fully  known.-'''  ^ 

In  the  case  of  man,  the  sufferings  and  imperfections  of  his 
present  state  are  used  as  an  argument  in  favour  of  a  future 
life,  where  all  apparent  inequality  and  injustice  will  be  redressed : 
But,  being  once  convinced  of  Order  and  a  Providence  as  to 
things  present,  men  may  soon,  perhaps,  be  satisfied  even  of  a 
fidure  state.  For,  if  Virtue  be  to  itself  no  small  reward, 
and  Vice  in  a  great  measure  its  own  punishment,  we  have  a 
solid  ground  to  go  upon.  The  plain  foundations  of  a  dis- 
tributive justice,  and  due  order  in  this  world,  may  lead  us  to 
conceive  a  further  building.  We  apprehend  a  larger  scheme, 
and  easily  resolve  ourselves  why  things  were  not  completed  in 
this  state,  but  their  accomplishment  reserved  rather  to  some 
further  period.  For  had  the  good  and  virtuous  of  mankind 
been  wholly  prosperous  in  this  life ;  had  goodness  never  met 
with  opposition,  nor  merit  ever  lain  under  a  cloud  :  where 
had  been  the  trial,  victory,  or  crown  of  virtue?  Where  had 
the  virtues  had  their  theatre,  or  whence  their  names  ?  Where 
«  Moralists,  Pt.  II.,  Sect.  4. 


112 


SHAFTESBURY. 


had  been  Temperance  or  Self-Denial  ?  Where  Patience, 
Meekness,  Magnanimity  ?  Whence  have  these  their  being  ? 
What  merit,  except  from  hardshi]3  ?  What  Virtue  without  a 
conflict,  and  the  encounter  of  such  enemies  as  arise  both 
within  and  from  abroad  * 

But  it  is  not  only  from  the  prospect  of  future  reparation 
that  we  may  derive  solace  in  our  misfortunes.  We  may 
comfort  ourselves  also  with  the  reflection  that  our  particular 
lot,  be  it  apparently  good  or  evil,  is  a  necessary  incident  in 
the  well-ordering  of  that  larger  system,  which  we  help  to 
compose.  After  saying  that,  "  according  to  the  hypothesis  oi 
those  who  exclude  a  general  mind,  'tis  scarce  possible,  upon 
disastrous  occasions,  and  under  the  circumstances  of  a 
calamitous  and  hard  fortune,  to  prevent  a  natural  kind  of 
abhorrence  and  spleen,  which  will  be  entertained  and  kept 
alive  by  the  imagination  of  so  perverse  an  order  of  tliings,^^ 
he  proceeds  :  "  But  in  another  hypothesis  (that  of  perfect 
Theism)  it  is  understood  'That  whatever  the  Order  of  the 
World  produces  is,  in  the  main,  both  just  and  good.'  There- 
fore, in  the  course  of  things  in  this  world,  whatever  hardship 
of  events  may  seem  to  force  from  any  rational  creature  a  hard 
censure  of  his  private  condition  or  lot,  he  may  by  reflection, 
nevertheless,  come  to  have  patience  and  to  acquiesce  in  it. 
Nor  is  this  all.  He  may  go  further  still  in  this  reconciliation, 
and  from  the  same  principle  may  make  the  lot  itself  an  object 
of  his  good  affection,  whilst  he  strives  to  maintain  this 
generous  fealty,  and  stands  so  well  disposed  towards  the  laws 
and  government  of  his  higher  country 

*  Moralists,  Pt.  II.,  Sect.  3. 

*  This  passage  affords  another  instance  of  the  similarity  of  much  of 
Shaftesbury's  teaching  to  that  of  the  Stoics.  Von  Gizycki  refers  to 
Seneca,  De  Vita  Beata,  Ch.  xv.,  from  which  I  extract  the  following 
sentences :  "  Quomodo  hie  potest  deo  parere  et  quicquid  evenit  bono 
animo  excipere  nec  de  fato  queri,  casuum  quorum  benignus  interpres,  si 


THEORIES  ON  RELIGION,  BEA  UTY,  &  ART.  113 


Such  is  Shaftesbury's  scheme  of  theology.  Like  most 
other  optimists^  he  fails^  at  least  on  the  face  of  his  sj'stem/ 
to  meet  the  great  difficulty  which  is  usually  felt  by  men  who 
are  tolerably  familiar  with  the  ills  of  life  and  the  destructive 
forces  of  nature,  when  theories  of  this  roseate  hue  are  pro- 
pounded to  them.  Why,  if  the  designer  and  governor  of  the 
Universe  be  all-powerful  and  all-wise  as  well  as  all-good, 
could  he  not  have  secured  the  beauty,  the  perfection,  and  the 
happiness  of  the  whole,  without  so  much  deformity,  imper- 
fection, and  misery  in  the  parts  ?  A  suffering  man  may  well 
be  pardoned,  if,  even  with  a  firm  assurance  of  future  repara- 
tion, he  questions  the  accuracy  of  the  dictum  that  "  every- 
thing is  for  the  best  in  the  best  of  all  possible  worlds."  Why, 
he  may  say,  should  I  not  be  happy  here  as  well  as  hereafter, 
why  should  not  an  omnipotent  Providence  attain  its  ends  by 
means  less  painful  and  less  hurtful  to  its  creatures?  And, 
though  the  necessity  of  a  contrast  between  good  and  evil, 
pleasure  and  pain,  like  the  lights  and  shades  in  painting,  or 
the  harmonies  and  dissonances  in  music,  which  Shaftesbury 
adduces  as  parallels,  may,  in  some  measure,  meet  the  difficulty, 
it  can  hardly  be  said  altogether  to  remove  it.  Some  of  the 
ancient  philosophers  imagined  that  the  designs  of  a  beneficent 
creator  were  constantly  being  frustrated,  though  with  vary- 
ing success,  by  the  resistance  of  an  inert  matter,  the  source 
of  all  evil  both  in  man  and  nature.  The  Manichees,  following 
the  ancient  Persians,  maintained  the  original  and  independent 
existence  of  two  principles,  one  of  Good  or  Light,  the  other 

ad  voluptatum  dolorumque  punctiunculas  concutitur?  Quic- 

quid  ex  universi  constitutione  patiendum  est  magno  suscipiatur  animo. 
Ad  hoc  sacramentum  adacti  sumus,  ferre  mortalia  nec  perturbari  iis  quie 
vitare  non  est  nostrie  potestatis.  In  regno  nati  sumus.  Deo  parere 
libertas  est." 

^  For  a  qualification  of  his  system,  which  Shaftesbury  possibly  ad- 
mitted, see  pp.  115,  116. 


114 


SHAFTESBURY. 


of  Evil  or  Darkness.  Christian  theology  recognizes  an  evil 
principle,  though  a  subordinate  and  created  one,  and,  in  the 
last  resort,  refers  all  evil,  including  sin  and  death,  to  the  dis- 
obedience of  voluntary  agents,  who,  by  obedience  to  the 
Supreme  Will,  might  have  preserved  to  themselves  and  their 
posterity  their  primeval  condition  of  unsullied  happiness.  So 
perplexed  was  J.  S.  Mill  by  this  ever-recurring  problem  of 
the  existence  of  evil,  that  he  thinks  the  attribute  of  perfect 
Goodness  in  the  Deity  can  only  be  saved  at  the  expense  of 
his  Omnipotence.  The  only  admissible  moral  theory  of 
Creation,'*  he  says,  is  that  the  Principle  of  Good  cannot  at 
once  and  altogether  subdue  the  powers  of  evil,  either  physical 
or  moral ;  could  not  place  mankind  in  a  world  free  from  the 
necessity  of  an  incessant  struggle  with  the  maleficent  powers, 
or  make  them  always  victorious  in  that  struggle,  but  could 
and  did  make  them  capable  of  carrying  on  the  fight  w^ith 
vigour  and  with  progressively  increasing  success.'^  What- 
ever may  be  the  solution  of  these  difficulties,  and  they  are 
difficulties  which  will  probably  always  continue  to  exercise 
the  minds  of  reflecting  men,  the  optimistic  theory  seems  to 
me  at  least  more  reasonable  than  the  now  fashionable  theory 
of  pessimism.  It  is  easier  to  believe,  so  it  appears  to  me, 
that,  if  we  could  see  the  whole  scheme  of  nature,  we  should 
recognize  that  all  things  are  for  the  best,  than  that  we  are 
living  in  a  world,  which,  if  it  were  only  a  little  worse  than 
it  is,  would  cease  to  exist.  Both  Optimism  and  Pessimism, 
when  nakedly  stated,  seem  to  practical  men  to  wear  an  air  of 
paradox,  but  surely  Pessimism  is  far  the  more  paradoxical  of 
the  two. 

It  is  ingeniously  remarked  by  Mill  that,  in  the  Theodiceey 
Leibnitz  does  not  maintain  that  this  is  the  best  of  all  imagi- 
nable, but  only  of  all  possible  worlds.     The  Deity,  therefore, 

Essays  on  Religion,  pp.  38,  39. 


THEORIES  ON  RELIGION,  BE  A  UTY,  &  ART.  ii-^ 


is  regarded  as  limited  by  possibilities,  certain  combinjitions  of 
events  only  being-  possible,  and  certain  events  in  those  com- 
binations excluding  or  implying  the  presence  of  others.  Thus, 
for  instance,  freedom  of  choice  in  man  implies  liability  to 
error  and  sin.  He  cannot  be  endowed  with  the  privilege 
without  also  being  exposed  to  the  danger.  The  Optimism  oi 
Leibnitz  is,  therefore,  a  limited  and  qualified  Optimism. 
Shaftesbury^s  Optimism  appears,  at  first  sight,  to  be  more 
thoroughgoing,  but  it  may  be  questioned  whether  he  did  not 
regard  the  operations  of  God  as  limited  by  what  he  conceived 
as  the  co-existent  and  co-eternal  principle  of  matter.  At  least, 
in  the  Moralists,^  the  following  curious  and  striking  passage 
is  put  into  the  mouth  of  Philocles,  and  Theocles,  by  his 
silence,  appears  to  acquiesce  in  the  views  there  suggested  : — 

"I  expected  to  have  heard  from  you,  in  customary  form, 
of  a  First  Cause,  a  First  Being,  and  a  Beginning  of  Motion  : 
how  clear  the  idea  was  of  an  immaterial  substance :  and 
how  plainly  it  appeared  that,  at  some  time  or  other.  Matter 
must  have  been  created.^  But  as  to  all  this  you  are  silent. 
As  for  what  is  said  of  '  a  material  unthinking  substance  being 
never  able  to  have  produced  an  immaterial  thinking  one,^  I 
readily  grant  it ;  but  on  the  condition  that  this  great  maxim  of 
'Nothing  being  ever  made  from  Nothing'  may  hold  as  well 
on  ray  side  as  my  adversary's.  And  then,  I  suppose,  that, 
whilst  the  world  endures,  he  will  be  at  a  loss  how  to  assign  a 
beginning  to  Matter,  or  how  to  suggest  a  possibility  of 
annihilating  it.  The  spiritual  men  may,  as  long  as  they 
please,  represent  to  us,  in  the  most  eloquent  manner,  "that 
Matter,  considered  in  a  thousand  different  shapes,  joined  and 
disjoined,  varied  and  modified  to  eternity,  can  never,  of  itself, 

8  Pt.  II.,  Sect.  4. 

^  Shaftesbury  is  here  probably  alluding  to  Locke's  demonstration  of  the 
Existence  of  a  God,  contained  in  the  Essay,  Bk.  IV.,  Ch.  10. 

I  % 


ii6 


SHAFTESBURY, 


afford  one  single  thought,  never  occasion  or  give  rise  to  any- 
thing like  sense  or  knowledge/'  Their  argument  will  hold 
good  against  a  Democritus,  an  Epicurus,  or  any  of  the  elder 
or  later  Atomists.  But  it  will  be  turned  on  them  by  an 
examining  Academist.  And,  when  the  two  substances  are 
fairly  set  asunder,  and  considered  apart  as  different  kinds, 
'twill  be  as  strong  sense,  and  as  good  argument,  to  say  as 
well  of  the  immaterial  kind :  '  That  do  with  it  as  you  please, 
modify  it  a  thousand  ways,  purify  it,  exalt  it,  sublime  it, 
torture  it  ever  so  much,  or  rack  it,  as  they  say,  with  thinking ; 
you  will  never  be  able  to  produce  or  force  the  contrary  sub- 
stance out  of  it.'  The  poor  dregs  of  sorry  matter  can  no 
more  be  made  out  of  the  simple  pure  substance  of  immaterial 
thought,  than  the  high  spirits  of  thought  or  reason  can  be 
extracted  from  the  gross  substance  of  heavy  matter.  So  let 
the  Dogmatists  make  of  this  argument  what  they  can.'' 

If  this  passage  expresses  Shaftesbury's  own  opinions,  he 
probably,  like  Plato,  regarded  matter  as  the  cause  of  evil  or 
imperfection,  the  blind,  unintelligent  force,  which  even 
Supreme  Wisdom  must  take  into  account  in  its  designs  for 
the  good  of  the  entire  system  of  the  Universe.  Hence,  the 
necessity  for  subtle  combinations,  in  which  the  part  must 
often  be  sacrificed  to  the  whole,  and  the  Universal  Good  can 
only  be  compassed  at  the  expense  of  individual  suffering, 
occasional  deformities,  and  particular  blemishes.  On  this 
view  of  Shaftesbury's  theory,  the  wwld  is  not,  to  use  Mill's 
phrase,  the  best  imaginable  world,  but  the  best  world  that 
existing  circumstances  admit  of;  the  supreme  goodness  and 
wisdom  of  the  Deity  being  displayed,  not  in  the  framing  of 
an  ideal  scheme,  but  in  the  adaptation  of  given  means  to  the 
best  attainable  end. 


No  description  of  Shaftesbury's  theological  position  would 


THEORIES  ON  RELIGION,  BEA  UTY,  &  ART,  1 17 


be  complete,  unless  it  noticed  his  attitude  towards  Revealed 
Religion  and  the  doctrines  and  cler^-y  of  the  Established 
Church.  As  to  Revelation,  notwithstanding  the  tone  of  mock 
deference  with  which,  in  common  with  so  many  other 
sceptical  writers  of  the  eighteenth  century,  he  professes  his 
entire  submission  to  the  Opinions  by  Law  established,^^  it 
is  tolerably  plain  that  he  does  not  regard  the  Church  or  the 
Bible  as  having  communicated  to  mankind  any  moral  or 
spiritual  truths  which  were  not  attainable  by  the  natural 
exercise  of  the  human  reason.  He  believed  steadfastly,  and 
even  enthusiastically,  in  all  those  doctrines  which  Divines 
assign  to  the  province  of  Natural  Religion, — in  One  God,  in 
the  moral  government  of  the  Universe,  in  a  future  state  of 
rewards  and  punishments, — but  the  distinctive  doctrines  of 
Christianity  were  alien  alike  to  his  optimistic  modes  of 
thought  and  to  the  intensely  classical  spirit  which  he  had 
imbibed  from  his  assiduous  study  of  ancient  authors.  He 
professes,  indeed,  that  "  through  a  profound  respect  and 
religious  veneration  he  has  forborne  so  much  as  to  name  any 
of  the  sacred  and  solemn  mysteries  of  Revelation,'^^  but  his 
reticence,  which  is  not  always  strictly  maintained,  is  of  the 
kind  which  betokens  unbelief.  His  hostility  or  indifference 
to  those  theological  dogmas  which  he  did  not  regard  as  rest- 
ing on  the  evidence  of  natural  reason  is  specially  apparent  in 
the  first  and  last  Treatises.  The  passage  on  the  Jews  in  the 
Letter  concerning  Enthusiasm  is  alone  sufficient  to  show  how 
completely  he  had  broken  with  the  idea  of  specially  revealed 
religions.  A  good  instance  of  the  covert  manner  in  which 
he  conducted  his  assaults  against  what  he  conceived  to  be  the 
weak  or  immoral  points  in  the  prevalent  religious  creed  of  his 
day  is  furnished  by  the  following  passage,  which  is  taken 
from  the  same  letter :  "  We  must  not  only  be  in  ordinary 

^  Miscellaneous  Reflections,  Misc.  V.,  Ch.  3. 


ii8 


SHAFTESBURY. 


good  humour,  but  in  the  best  of  humours,  and  in  the  sweetest, 
kindest  disposition  of  our  lives,  to  understand  well  what  true 
goodness  is,  and  what  those  attributes  imply  which  we 
ascribe  with  such  applause  and  honour  to  the  Deity.  We 
shall  then  be  able  to  see  best,  whether  those  forms  of  justice, 
those  degrees  of  punishment,  that  temper  of  resentment,  and 
those  measures  of  offence  and  indignation,  which  we  vulgarly 
suppose  in  God,  are  suitable  to  those  original  ideas  of  Good- 
ness, which  the  same  Divine  Being,  Dr  Nature  under  him, 
has  implanted  in  us,  and  which  we  must  necessarily  presup- 
pose, in  order  to  give  him  praise  or  honour  of  any  kind/'  ^ 

In  opposition  to  the  almost  unanimous  assumption  of  pro- 
fessed theologians,  Shaftesbury  maintained  that  entire  free- 
dom of  speculation,  and,  in  consequence,  of  opinion,  extend- 
ing even  to  the  question  of  His  own  existence,  cannot  be 
displeasing  to  a  Being,  one  of  whose  attributes  is  perfect 
benevolence.  It  is  impossible  that  any  besides  an  ill- 
natured  man  can  wish  against  the  Being  of  a  God ;  for  this 
is  wishing  against  the  public,  and  even  against  one's  private 
good  too,  if  rightly  understood.  But,  if  a  man  has  not  any 
such  ill-will  to  stifle  his  belief,  he  must  have  surely  an  un- 
happy opinion  of  God,  and  believe  him  not  so  good  by  far  as 
he  knows  himself  to  be,  if  he  imagines  that  an  impartial  use 
of  his  reason,  in  any  matter  of  speculation  whatsoever,  can 
make  him  run  any  risk  hereafter ;  and  that  a  mean  denial  of 
nis  reason,  and  an  affectation  of  belief  in  any  point  too  hard 
for  his  understanding,  can  entitle  him  to  any  favour  in  another 
world.    This  is  being  sycophants  in  religion,  mere  parasites 

c£  devotion  'Tis  the  most  beggarly  .^efuge 

imaginable,  which  is  so  mightily  cried  up,  and  stands  as  a 
great  maxim  with  many  able  men :  ^'That  they  should  strive 
to  have  faith,  and  believe  to  the  utmost ;  because  if,  after  all^ 

'  Letter  concerning  Enthusiasm,  Sect.  4. 


THEORIES  ON  RELIGION,  BEAUTY,  &  ART  119 


there  be  nothing"  in  the  matter^  there  will  be  no  harm  in 
being  thus  deceived,  but  if  there  be  anything,  it  will  be  fatal 
for  thetn  not  to  have  believed  to  the  full/^  But  they  are  so 
far  mistaken  that,  whilst  they  have  this  thought,  'tis  certain 
they  can  never  believe  either  to  their  own  satisfaction  and  hap- 
piness in  this  world,  or  with  any  advantage  of  recommendation 
to  anothei".  For,  besides  that  our  reason,  which  knows  the 
cheat,  will  never  rest  satisfied  on  such  a  bottom,  but  turn  us 
often  adrift  and  toss  us  in  a  sea  of  doubt  and  perplexity,  we 
cannot  but  actually  grow  worse  in  our  religion,  and  entertain 
a  worse  opinion  still  of  a  Supreme  Peity,  whilst  our  belief  is 
founded  on  so  injurious  a  thought  of  Him.-"  ^ 

But,  though  every  man  who  has  the  leisure  and  oppor- 
tunity should  be  free  to  form  his  own  opinions  on  religion 
as  on  all  other  subjects,  there  should  be  an  authorized  eccle- 
siastical body  to  supply  a  common  doctrine  and  worship  for 
the  people  at  large.  "  As  a  notable  author  of  our  nation 
expresses  it,  His  necessary  a  people  should  have  a  public 

3  Letter  concerning  Enthusiasm,  Sect.  4. 

*  Shaftesbury  cites  James  Harrington,  author  of  the  Oceana.  The 
particular  passage  he  alludes  to  is  to  be  found  in  The  Art  of  Lawgiving: 
Bk.  III.,  ch  2.  The  chapter  begins  with  the  following  sentences 
"  There  is  nothing  more  certain  or  demonstrable  to  common  sense  than 
that  the  far  greater  part  of  mankind,  in  matters  of  religion,  give  them- 
selves up  to  the  public  leading.  Now  a  National  Religion,  rightly 
established,  or  not  coercive,  is  not  any  public  driving,  but  only  the  public 
leading.  If  the  Public  in  this  case  may  not  lead  such  as  desire  to  be  led 
by  the  Public,  and  yet  a  party  may  lead  such  as  desire  to  be  led  by  a 
party,  where  woulJ  be  the  Liberty  of  Conscience  as  to  the  State?"  In  the 
"  Prelirainarys  "  to  the  Oceana,  he  says  :  "  As  a  Government  pretending 
to  Liberty,  and  yet  suppressing  Liberty  of  C<mscience,  must  be  a  contra- 
diction ;  so  a  man  that,  pleading  for  the  liberty  of  private  conscience, 
refuses  liberty  to  the  national  conscience  must  be  absurd.  A  Common- 
wealth is  nothing  else  but  the  national  conscience.  And,  if  the  conviction 
of  a  man's  private  conscience  produces  his  private  religion,  the  conviction 
of  the  national  conscience  must  produce  a  national  religion." 


120 


SHAFTESBURY. 


leading  in  religion.  For  to  deny  the  magistrate  a  worship, 
or  take  away  a  National  Churchy  is  as  mere  enthusiasm  as 
the  notion  which  sets  up  persecution.  For  why  should  there 
not  be  public  walks  as  well  as  private  gardens  ?  Why  not 
public  libraries  as  well  as  private  education  and  home- 
tutors  ? "  *  Moreover,  though  no  one  should  be  compelled, 
against  his  will,  to  conform  to  the  prescribed  worship  of  the 
Church  established  by  law,  Shaftesbury  evidently  thinks  that 
it  is  the  better  course  on  the  part  of  the  philosopher,  if  not 
of  all  good  citizens,  to  do  so.  "Every  one  knows  that  by 
Heresy  is  understood  a  stubbornness  in  the  will,  not  a  defect 
merely  in  the  understanding.  On  this  account  ^tis  impos- 
sible that  an  honest  and  good-humoured  man  should  be  a 
schismatic  or  heretic,  and  affect  to  separate  from  his  national 
worship  on  slight  reason,  or  without  severe  provocation.''^  ^ 
As  we  have  seen  in  the  First  Chapter,^  he  was  himself 
regular  in  his  attendance  at  Church  and  habitually  received 
the  Holy  Communion.  In  pursuing  this  course  of  conduct, 
I  do  not  think  that  he  was  simply  acting  for  the  sake  of 
setting  an  example  to  his  tenants  and  dependents,  much  less 
that  he  was  playing  the  hypocrite.  He  was,  as  I  have  said 
elsewhere,  a  man  of  a  deeply  religious  temperament,  and, 
though  his  own  religious  feelings  were  satisfied  by  the  doc- 
trines of  Natural  Religion  and  he  had  evidently  no  belief 
in  the  miraculous  aspects  of  Christianity,  he  probably  thought 
that  a  system  of  practices  and  dogmas,  appealing  directly  to 
the  senses  and  imagination,  was  necessary  to  the  spiritual  sus- 
tenance of  the  great  mass  of  mankind,  while  to  the  philosopher 
these  same  dogmas  and  practices,  philosophically  interpreted, 
might  have  a  moral  and  even  a  religious  value.    At  least, 

^  Letter  concerning  Enthusiasm,  Sect.  2. 

6  Miscellaneous  Reflections,  Misc.  2,  Ch.  3 

7  See  p.  38. 


THEORIES  ON  RELIGION,  BEA  UTY,  &  ART,  121 


this  is  what  I  would  hazard  as  the  most  probable  explanation 
of  Shaftesbury's  somewhat  enigmatical  frame  of  mind. 

The  great  blot  on  Shaftesbury's  treatment  of  religious 
questions  is  the  tone  of  banter  which  he  so  often  assumes. 
Sometimes  this  banter  approaches  grimace,  and  not  infre- 
quently reminds  us  of  Voltaire.  Thug,  speaking  of  Revela- 
tion, he  says  :  "  If  I  mistake  not  our  author's  meaning,  he 
professes  to  believe,  as  far  as  is  possible  for  any  one  who  him- 
self had  never  experienced  any  divine  communication,  whether 
by  dream,  vision,  apparition,  or  other  supernatural  operation  ; 
nor  was  ever  present  as  eye-witness  of  any  sign,  prodigy,  or 
miracle  whatsoever ®  Of  course,  what  he  means  is  that 
nothing  short  of  personal  experience  affords  sufficient  evidence 
of  a  supernatural  occurrence.  But  why  not  make  this  asser- 
tion outright,  instead  of  insinuating  it  under  the  cover  of  an 
ironical  remark  ?  When,  speaking  of  himself  in  the  same 
passage,  he  goes  on  to  say  that  for  what  is  recorded  of  ages 
heretofore,  the  author  seems  to  resign  his  judgment,  with 
entire  condescension,  to  his  superiors,"  and  that  on  all  occa- 
sions he  submits  most  willingly,  and  with  full  confidence  and 
trust,  to  the  opinions  by  law  established,""  his  irony  appears 
to  be  carried  to  the  verge  of  mendacity.  That  he  did  not 
believe  in  what  is  ordinarily,  though  it  may  be  inaccurately, 
called  the  supernatural  as  distinguished  from  the  natural 
government  of  God,  is  plain  to  any  one  who  can  read  between 
the  lines.  But,  as  if  to  leave  no  doubt  on  the  subject,  in  the 
Moralists,  Shaftesbury  puts  in  the  mouth  of  one  of  his 
characters,  who  is  defending  modern  miracles,  the  following 
argument,  to  which  no  reply  is  attempted :  "  The  attestation 
of  men  dead  and  gone,  in  behalf  of  miracles  past  and  at  an 
end,  can  never  surely  be  of  equal  force  with  miracles  present. 
If  there  were  no  miracles  now-a-days,  the  world  would  be 

^  Miscellaneous  Keflections,  Misc.  2,  Ch.  2. 


122 


SHAFTESBURY. 


apt  to  think  there  never  were  any.  The  present  must  answer 
for  the  credibility  of  the  past/^  ^    But  that  he  regards  the 

'  The  Moralists,  Part  II.,  Sect.  5.  Shaftesbury  is  undoubtedly  right 
in  maintaining,  in  this  section,  that  miracles  afford  no  logical  proof  of  the 
existence  of  God,  understanding  by  God  one  Supreme  Being,  all-powei  ful, 
all-wise,  and  all  good.  We  must  already  believe  in  the  existence  of  God, 
before  we  can  determine  whether  any  alleged  miracle  proceeds  from  Him 
or  not.  Mr.  Mill  has  stated  this  argument  extremely  well  in  bis  Logic, 
Bk.  III.,  Ch.  25,  extending  it  so  as  to  apply  to  the  evidence,  derived 
from  miracles,  for  the  reality  of  supernatural  agencies  generally.  He 
maintains  that,  "  if  we  do  not  already  believe  in  supernatural  agencies,  no 
miracle  can  prove  to  us  their  existence."  The  reality  of  the  supernatural 
agency  must  have  been  previously  accepted  on  other  grounds.  The 
miracle  can  only  reveal  to  us  its  will.  Though  Shaftesbury's  argument 
has  not  so  wide  an  application,  it  is  stated  with  remarkable  force. 
"What  though  innumerable  miracles  from  every  part  assailed  the  sense, 
and  gave  the  trembling  soul  no  respite  ?  What  though  the  sky  should 
suddenly  open,  and  all  kinds  of  prodigies  appear,  voices  be  heard,  or 
characters  read. P  What  would  this  evince  more  than  'That  there  were 
certain  Powers  could  do  all  this  '?  But  'what  Powers;  whether  one  or 
more ;  whether  superior  or  subaltern ;  mortal  or  immortal ;  wise  or 
foolish ;  just  or  unjust ;  good  or  bad ' :  this  would  still  remain  a  mystery  ; 
as  would  the  true  intention,  the  infallibility  or  certainty  of  whatever  these 
Powers  asserted.  Their  word  could  not  be  taken  in  their  own  case. 
They  might  silence  men  indeed,  but  not  convince  them  :  since  Power  can 
never  serve  as  proof  for  Goodness ;  and  Goodness  is  the  only  pledge  of 
Truth.    By   Goodness   alone  Trust  is  created.    By  Goodness  superior 

powers  may  win  belief.  To  whom,  therefore,  tlie  laws  of 

this  Universe  and  its  government  appear  just  and  uniform:  to  Lim  they 
speak  the  government  of  one  Just  One ;  to  him  they  reveal  and  witness  a 
God ;  and,  laying  in  him  the  foundation  of  this  first  faith,  they  fit  him 
for  a  subsequent  one."  Moralists,  Pt.  II.,  Sect.  5.  This  order  of  proof 
agrees  with  that  adopted  by  the  early  Christian  Apologists,  who  did  not 
adduce  miracles,  as  such,  but  miracles  evincing  beneficence,  to  p.ove  the 
divine  intervention ;  for  evil  spirits  also  were  regarded  as  capable  of 
working  wonders,  and  hence  the  moral  character  of  a  miracle  was  a  most 
important  element  in  determining  the  source  from  which  it  issued.  But 
these  considerations  imply  that  the  belief  in  a  God  must  already  exist, 
before  we  can  infer  that  any  particular  miracle  proceeds  from  Him. 


THEORIES  ON  RELIGION,  BEA  UTY,  &  ART.  123 


belief  in  modern  miracles  as  sheer  fanaticism,  he  nowhere 
conceals. 

Shaftesbury  was  perfectly  sincere  in  expressing  himself  in 
favour  of  the  maintenance  of  a  Church  Establishment;  nor 
would  he  probably  have  cared  to  bring  about  any  serious 
alterations  in  the  articles  and  formularies  of  the  Eng-lisb 
Church  as  settled  at  the  Reformation.  The  moderate  and 
tolerant  party  amongst  the  Anglican  Clergy,  the  Broad 
Church  party,  as  we  should  now  call  them,  seem  to  have  fairly 
satisfied  his  ideal  of  religious  teachers.  The  religion  which 
they  taught  was  not  indeed  the  sublimated  or  attenuated 
religion  which  corresponded  with  his  own  convictions,  but  it 
had  the  advantage  of  laying  hold  of  the  feelings  of  the 
masses,  while  it  lent  support  to  the  civil  order  and  did  not 
unduly  interfere  with  liberty  of  speculation.  In  early  life,  he 
edited  Dr.  Wliichcote's  Sermons;  of  Bishop  Burnet,  who  was 
the  Bishop  of  his  own  diocese,  he  always  speaks  with  esteem 
and  even  admiration ;  and,  in  one  of  his  letters  to  Michael 
Ainsworth,^  he  praises  the  bishops,  and  "dignified  church- 
men" generally,  of  his  own  time,  as  "the  most  worthily  and 
justly  dignified  of  any  in  any  age."  But  to  the  high  church- 
men—  the  preachers  of  passive  obedience,  the  claimants  of 
sacerdotal  powers,  and  the  advocates  of  a  policy  of  relentless 
persecution  towards  dissenters — he  seems  to  have  been 
actuated  by  a  feeling  of  the  deepest  animosity.  With  them, 
their  mode  of  life,  their  course  of  action,  and  their  ways  of 
thinking,  he  neither  had,  nor  could  pretend  to  have,  any 
sympathy.  In  the  letter  from  which  I  have  just  quoted, 
speaking  of  the  bishops  and  dignified  clergy,  he  says  :  "  They 
are  for  toleration,  inviolable  toleration  (as  our  Queen  nobly  and 
Christianly  said  it,  in  her  speech  a  year  or  two  since) ;  and 
this  is  itself  intolerable  with  our  high  gentlemen,  who 
*  Letters  to  a  Young  Man  at  the  University,  Letter  L 


124 


SHAFTESBURY. 


despise  the  gentleness  of  their  lord  and  master,  and  the  sweet 
mild  government  of  our  Queen,  preferring  rather  that 
abominable  blasphemous  representation  of  church  power, 
attended  with  the  worst  of  temporal  governmeuts^  as  we  see 
it  in  perfection  of  each  kind  in  France/^  In  a  subsequent 
letter  (Letter  IX),  he  warns  his  protege  that  ''all  the  pre- 
eminence, wealth,  or  pension,""  which  he  may  receive,  or  ex- 
pect to  receive,  by  help  of  the  clerical  character,  *'  is  from 
the  public,  whence  both  the  authority  and  the  profit  is 
derived,  and  on  which  it  legally  depends  ;  all  other  pretensions 
of  priests  being  Jewish  and  Heathenish,  and  in  our  state 
seditious,  disloyal,  and  factious."  In  another  letter  to 
Ainsworth,  dated  Reigate,  11th  May,  1711,  part  of  which  is 
wrongly  incorporated  in  Letter  X.  of  the  printed  collection,^ 
he  complains  that  "  this  is  the  worst  time  for  insolence,  riot, 
pride,  and  presumption  of  clergymen,  that  I  ever  knew,  or 
have  read  of ;  though  I  have  searched  far  into  the  characters 
of  high  churchmen  from  the  first  centuries,  in  which  they 
grew  to  be  dignified  with  crowns  and  purple,  to  the  late 
times  of  our  reformation  and  to  our  present  age."  The 
Characteristics  abound  in  passages  attacking,  either  obliquely 
or  directly,  the  intolerance  and  sacerdotal  pretensions  of  the 
high-church  section  of  the  English  clergy.  In  the  Miscel- 
laneous Reflections,  there  is  an  elaborate  passage  ^  in  which 
he  traces  the  growth  of  dogma  and  the  spirit  of  persecution 
in  the  Christian  Church,  till  at  last  it  culminated  in  the 
establishment  of  the  Romish  hierarchy.  In  the  spirit  and 
almost  in  the  very  words  of  modern  controversy  he  takes 
occasion  to  remark  how  much  more  imposing,  and  even 
tolerable,  are  the  claims  of  the  Romish  Church  than  those  of 
its  imitators  in  other  communions:     In  reality,  the  exercise 


«  See  p.  46. 


3  Misc.  2,  Ch.  2. 


THEORIES  ON  RELIGION,  BEA  UTY,  &  ART,  125 


of  power,  however  arbitrary  or  despotic,  seems  less  intolerable 
under  such  a  spiritual  sovereignty,  so  extensive,  ancient,  and 
of  such  a  long  succession,  than  under  the  petty  tyrannies  and 
mimical  polities  of  some  new  pretenders.  The  former  may 
even  persecute  with  a  tolerable  grace.  The  latter,  who  would 
willingly  derive  their  authority  from  the  former,  and  graft  on 
their  successive  right,  must  necessarily  make  a  very  awkward 
figure.  And  whilst  they  strive  to  give  themselves  the  same 
air  of  independency  on  the  civil  magistrate,  whilst  they  affect 
the  same  authority  in  government,  the  same  grandeur, 
magnificence,  and  pomp  in  worship,  they  raise  the  highest 
ridicule  in  the  eyes  of  those  who  have  real  discernment  and 
can  distinguish  originals  from  copies  : 

*  0  imitatores,  servum  pecus !  * " 


There  remains  one  other  subject  connected  with  Shaftes- 
bury^s  literary  activity,  to  the  exposition  of  which,  however, 
it  is  not  necessary  that  I  should  devote  much  space.  This  is 
his  theory  of  beauty  and  art.  We  have  seen  that,,  even  in 
his  treatment  of  morals,  the  idea  of  moral  beauty,  the  Greek 
conception  of  a  harmony  or  proportion  in  characters  or 
actions,  is  always  uppermost  in  his  mind.  Goodness,  Beauty, 
and  Truth,  indeed,  he  regards  as  all  one.  "  What  is  beauti- 
ful is  harmonious  and  proportionable;  what  is  harmonious 
and  proportionable  is  true  ;  and  what  is  at  once  both  beautiful 
and  true  is,  of  consequence,  agreeable  and  good."*^  *  Truth  is 
a  word  appropriate  to  propositions,  goodness  to  actions  and 
characters,  and  beauty  to  external  objects,  whether  of  nature 
or  art,  and  it  is  much  more  convenient  that  these  words 
should  be  confined  within  their  proper  provinces  than  that 


*  Miscellaneous  Reflections,  Misc.  3,  Ch.  2. 


126 


SHAFTESBURY. 


they  should  be  used  interchangeably.  As^,  however,  I  have 
already  discussed  this  question  in  reference  to  the  words 
Goodness  and  Beauty,  I  need  not  dwell  on  it  any  further. 
The  same  tendency  or  desire  to  assimilate  the  conceptions  of 
morals  to  those  of  art  is  shown  in  the  frequent  comparison 
of  the  moralist  or  philosopher  with  the  virtuoso,  a  word  then 
in  common  use  to  designate  what  we  should  now  call  an 
amateur. 

This  analogy,  or,  as  it  might  almost  be  styled,  identifica- 
tion, pervades  Shaftesbury^s  entire  system,  and  his  theory  of 
Ethics,  consequently,  easily  admits  of  being  translated  into  a 
theory  of  aesthetics.  Beauty  and  Morality  are  conceived  of 
as  inherent  properties,  the  one  of  external  objects,  the  other 
of  actions  and  characters.  Moreover,  they  are  both  appre- 
hended under  the  same  conditions,  and  after  the  same  manner. 
Lastly,  Morality  is  only  Beauty  in  one  of  its  higher  stages. 
It  may  be  worth  while  briefly  to  explain  and  illustrate  these 
several  points. 

To  begin  with  the  first.  Beauty  is  a  quality  of  objects,  as 
Morality  is  a  quality  of  characters,  dispositions,  and  actions. 
^'  The  case  is  the  same  in  the  mental  or  moral  subjects,  as  in 
the  ordinary  bodies  or  common  subjects  of  sense.  The  shapes, 
motions,  colours,  and  proportions  of  these  latter  being 
presented  to  our  e^e,  there  necessarily  arises  a  beauty  or 
deformity,  according  to  the  different  measure,  arrangement, 
and  disposition  of  their  several  parts.  So  in  behaviour  and 
actions,  when  presented  to  our  understanding,  there  must  be 
found,  of  necessity,  an  apparent  difference,  according  to  the 
regularity  or  irregularity  of  the  subjects.^^  ^  In  the  Moralists,^ 
he  tries  to  state  the  question  with  regard  to  the  beauty  of 
external  objects  in  the  simplest  possible  terms,  by  confining 

*  Inquiry  concerning  Virtue,  Book  I.,  Pt.  2,  Sect.  3. 

•  Pt.  III.,  Sect.  2. 


THEORIES  ON  RELIGION,  BE  A  UTY,&  ART,i27 


himself  to  the  ease  of  figures.  "  ^Tis  enough/''  says  Tbeocles, 
"  if  we  consider  the  simplest  of  figures ;  as  either  a  round 
ball,  a  cube,  or  die.  Why  is  even  an  infant  pleased  with  the 
first  view  of  these  proportions  ?  Why  is  the  sphere  or  globe, 
the  cylinder  and  obelisk  preferred ;  and  the  irregular  figures, 
in  respect  of  these,  rejected  and  despised?^'  ''I  am  leuJy/' 
replies  Philocles,  ^'  to  own  there  is  in  certain  figures  a  natural 
beauty,  which  the  eye  finds  as  soon  as  the  object  is  presented 
to  \t."  The  ultimate  foundation  of  beauty,  then,  as  of 
morality,  is  found  in  the  principles  o£  harmony  and  propor- 
tion, whether  of  the  parts  in  relation  to  each  other,  or  of 
the  whole  in  relation  to  other  wholes.  In  the  case  of 
morality,  it  may  be  urged,  the  idea  of  harmony  and  propor- 
tion is  better  replaced  by  that  of  Goodness,  or  tendency  to 
promote  the  general  welfare.  And,  as  applied  to  Beauty,  the 
analysis  is,  undoubtedly,  very  imperfect.  It  omits  to  take 
into  consideration  the  large  extent  to  which  our  ideas  of 
beauty  depend  on  association  with  other  ideas  and  emotions, 
and  how  much  of  our  own  thoughts  and  moods  and  feelings 
we  have  usually  imported  into  a  landscape  or  a  face  or  a  work 
of  art,  before  our  sesthetic  judgments  on  it  are  definitely 
formed. 

Shaftesbury  does  not,  like  Hutcheson,  distinguish  between  a 
sense  of  Beauty  and  a  Moral  Sense.  These  are  both,  with  him, 
one  and  the  same  sense,  applied  to  different  objects.  We  have  a 
sense  of  harmony  and  proportion,  which,  as  it  is  con-natural, 
may  be  called  an  instinct.  As  applied  to  external  objects,  it 
is  the  sense  of  beauty  ;  as  applied  to  human  actions,  characters, 
and  dispositions,  it  is  the  moral  sense;  and,  lastly,  whe:i 
applied  to  the  contemplation  of  the  universal  frame  of  things, 
and  the  moral  government  of  the  world,  it  becomes  a  religious 
sense,  by  which  we  apprehend  the  Supreme  Beauty.  In  its 
origin,  this  sense  is  an  instinct,  but  it  admits,  in  all  its  appli- 


128 


SHAFTESBURY. 


cations,  of  indefinite  cultivation  and  improvement,  and  this 
is  the  work  which  ought  to  form  the  main  occupation  of  our 
lives. 

The  three  orders  of  Beauty  are  set  forth  in  a  passage  in 
the  Moralists/  which  is  so  characteristic  of  Shaftesbury's 
point  of  view,  that,  notwithstanding  the  length  of  the 
extract,  I  think  it  well  to  lay  the  greater  part  of  it  before 
the  reader. 

"  Do  you  not  see  then,  replied  Theocles,  that  you  have 
established  three  degrees  or  orders  of  Beauty  ?  As 
how  ? 

Why  first,  the  dead  forms,  as  you  properly  have  called 
them,  which  bear  a  fashion,  and  are  formed,  whether  by  man 
or  nature ;  but  have  no  forming  power,  no  action,  or  intelli- 
gence. Right. 

"Next,  and  as  the  second  kind,  the  Forms  which  form  ;  that 
is,  which  have  intelligence,  action,  and  operation.  Right 
still. 

^'  Here  therefore  is  double  beauty.  For  here  is  both  the 
Form  (the  effect  of  Mind)  and  Mind  itself.  The  first  kind 
[is]  low  and  despicable  in  respect  of  this  other ;  from  whence 
the  dead  form  receives  its  lustre  and  force  of  beauty.  For 
what  is  a  mere  body,  though  a  human  one,  and  ever  so 
exactly  fashioned,  if  inward  form  be  wanting,  and  the  mind  be 
monstrous  or  imperfect,  as  in  an  idiot  or  savage  ?  This 
too  I  can  apprehend,  said  I ;  but  where  is  the  third 
order  ? 

Have  patience,  replied  he,  and  see  first  whether  you  have 
discovered  the  whole  force  of  this  second  Beauty?  How 
else  should  you  understand  the  force  of  love,  or  have  the 
power  of  enjoyment?  Tell  me,  I  beseech  you,  when  first 
you  named  these  the  Forming  Forms,  did  you  think  of  no 
7  Moralists,  Part  III.,  Sect.  2. 


THEORIES  ON  RELIGION, BEAUTY,  &  ART  129 


other  productions  of  theirs  besides  the  dead  kinds,  such  as 
the  palaces,  the  coins,  the  brazen  or  the  marble  figures  of 
men  ?    Or  did  you  think  of  something  nearer  life  ? 

I  could  easily,  said  I,  have  added  that  these  forms  of  ours 
had  a  virtue  of  producing  other  living*  forms,  like  themselves. 
But  this  virtue  of  theirs  I  thought  was  from  another  form 
above  them,  and  could  not  properly  be  called  their  virtue  or 
art ;  if  in  reality  there  was  a  superior  art,  or  something 
artist-like,  which  guided  their  hand,  and  made  tools  of  them 
in  this  specious  work. 

"  Happily  thought,  said  he  !  You  have  prevented  a  censure 
which  I  hardly  imagined  you  could  escape.  And  here  you 
have  unawares  discovered  that  third  order  of  Beaut}'',  which 
forms  not  only  such  as  we  call  mere  forms,  but  even  the 
Forms  which  form.  For  we  ourselves  are  notable  architects 
in  matter,  and  can  show  lifeless  bodies  brought  into  form, 
and  fashioned  by  our  own  hands  :  but  that  which  fashions 
even  minds  themselves  contains  in  itself  all  the  beauties 
fashioned  by  those  minds ;  and  is  consequently  the  principle, 
source,  and  fountain  of  all  Beauty.  It  seems  so. 

Therefore,  whatever  beauty  appears  in  our  second  order  of 
forms,  or  whatever  is  derived  or  produced  from  thence,  all 
this  is  eminently,  principally,  and  originally  in  this  last  order 
of  Supreme  and  Sovereign  Beauty.  True. 

"  Thus  Architecture,  Music,  and  all  which  is  of  human 
invention,  resolves  itself  into  this  last  order.  Right, 
Raid  I :  and  thus  all  the  enthusiasms  of  other  kinds  resolve 
themselves  into  ours."*' 

However  open  to  criticism  these  statements  may  be,  it 
must  at  least  be  acknowledged  that  the  conception  of  an 
ascending  scale  of  beauty,  rising  from  the  simplest  objects 
of  nature,  through  man,  his  works  and  actions,  up  to  the 
universal  frame  of  things  and  its  Creator,  and  of  a  special 

K 


130 


SHAFTESBURY, 


organ  in  man,  capable^  by  development  and  cultivation,  of 
apprehending  these  successive  stages,  is  one  of  peculiar 
grandeur  and  sublimity,  as  worthy  of  a  poet  as  of  a  philo- 
sopher. The  reader,  who  is  acquainted  with  the  works  of 
Plato^  will  not  fail  to  recognize  the  thoroughly  Platonic  spirit 
which  animates  Shaftesbury's  speculations  on  these  and 
kindred  topics.  But  the  disciple,  though  the  master^s  mantle 
is  upon  him,  never  fails  to  retain  a  marked  individuality  of 
his  own. 

In  addition  to  the  many  observations  on  art  and  beauty 
which  lie  scattered  up  and  down  his  religious  and  ethical 
treatises,  Shaftesbury  wrote  two  small  pieces  having  express 
reference  to  the  Fine  Arts.  These  are  the  Notion  of  the 
historical  draught  or  tablature  of  the  Judgment  of  Hercules 
and  the  "  Letter  concerning  Design,^'  both  of  which  have 
ioeen  already  noticed  in  the  second  chapter.  The  first  piece 
offers  suggestions  for  a  painting  of  the  Judgment  of  Hercules, 
and  contains  some  very  just  remarks  on  the  requisites  of 
historical  painting  in  general.  Thus,  he  lays  down  the  rules 
that  in  painting  of  this  kind  there  must  be  unity  of  design, 
that  is  to  say,  the  tablature  must  be  "  a  single  piece,  compre- 
hended in  one  view,  and  formed  according  to  one  single  in- 
telligence, meaning,  or  design/^  constituting  a  real  whole 
by  a  natural  and  necessary  relation  of  its  parts,  the  same  as 
of  the  members  in  a  natural  body/'  that  there  must  be 
unity  of  time  and  action,  which  he  calls  the  rule  of  con- 
sistency, that  is  to  say,  that  such  passages  or  events  only 
are  to  be  set  in  view,  as  have  actually  subsisted,  or,  accord- 
ing to  nature,  might  well  subsist  or  happen  together,  in  one 
and  the  same  instant/'  that  the  subsidiary  parts  of  the 
picture,  such  as  the  landscape  or  architecture,  should  not  divert 
the  eye  from  the  action,  which  is  the  principal  design ;  that 


THEORIES  ON  RELIGION,  BEAUTY,  &  ART.  1 2,1 


nothing"  of  the  emblematical  or  enigmatic  kind  be  visibly 
and  directly  intermixed,^^  as  tending  to  interfere  with  the 
natural  simplicity  and  grace  of  the  piece.  These  and  similar 
rules  have  for  their  object  the  maintenance  of  verisimilitude 
and  congruity,  and  are  intended,  it  must  be  recollected,  for 
application  to  historical  or  mythological  pieces,  such  as  exer- 
cised the  skill  of  the  later  Italian  painters,  rather  than  to 
devotional  pieces,  such  as  expressed  the  faith,  or  love,  or  awe 
of  the  earlier  artists.  The  treatise  concludes  with  some 
remarks  inculcating  the  complete  subordination  of  the  colour- 
ing to  the  drawing  and  composition  in  a  picture,  to  which, 
probably,  few  art-critics  in  our  own  time  would  subscribe. 
"The  pleasure^'  arising  from  colours  ''is  plainly  foreign 
and  separate;  as  having  no  concern  or  share  in  the  proper 
delight  or  entertainment  which  naturally  arises  from  the 
subject  and  workmanship  itself.  For  the  subject,  in  respect 
of  pleasure  as  well  as  science,  is  absolutely  completed,  when 
the  design  is  executed,  and  the  proposed  imitation  once  ac- 
complished. And  thus  it  always  is  the  best,  when  the  colours 
are  most  subdued  and  made  subservient."  This  criticism  only 
too  well  accords  with  the  sombre  colouring  and  consequent 
heaviness  of  effect  which  unfavourably  distinguish  so  much 
of  the  later  Italian  art. 

That  Shaftesbury  did  not  realize  the  extent  to  which 
Italian  art  had  declined  in  the  hands  of  the  later  painters  is 
shown  by  his  mentioning  the  name  of  Carlo  Maratti,  at  the 
end  of  his  Letter  concerning  Design,  as  one  of  the  painters 
by  whom  he  would  have  wished  the  picture  of  the  Judgment 
of  Hercules  to  be  executed. 

I  have  already  noticed^  some  of  the  more  characteristic 
contents  of  the  Letter  concerning  Design,  namely  the  pre- 
diction that  a  national  school  of  art  would  soon  arise  in 

»  See  pp.  60,  61. 
K  2 


132 


SHAFTESBURY. 


England,  fhe  depreciation  of  Gothic  architecture,  and  the 
attack  on  Sir  Christopher  Wren.  I  may  add  that  the  term 
Gothic  is  invariably  used  by  Shaftesbury  as  a  term  of 
reproach,  and  that  he  always  assumes,  as  a  proposition  not 
likely  to  be  disputed^  that  Gothic  art  is  contrary  to  all  sound 
principles  of  taste.  Thus,  in  one  of  the  passages  in  the 
Characteristics^  where  he  is  drawing  a  parallel  between  Art 
and  Virtue,  and  maintaining  that  both  are  founded  in  nature, 
he  says :  ^'  For  Harmony  is  Harmony  by  nature,  let  men 
judge  ever  so  ridiculously  of  music.  So  is  Symmetry  and 
Proportion  founded  still  in  nature,  let  men^s  fancy  prove  ever 
so  barbarous,  or  their  fashions  ever  so  Gothic  in  their  archi- 
tecture, sculpture,  or  whatever  other  designing  art."*'  That 
these  narrow  canons  of  criticism,  as  applied  to  sculpture  and 
architecture,  were  all  but  universal  in  Shaftesbury^s  time  and 
for  about  a  century  afterwards,  and  that  they  were  followed 
by  a  reaction  almost  as  complete,  as  exclusive,  and  as  un- 
reasoning, which  has  lasted  into  our  own  days,  I  need  hardly 
remark.  There  is  one  other  point  in  the  Letter  concerning 
Design  which  I  ought  not  to  pass  over  in  silence.  This  is 
the  contention  that  a  flourishing  condition  of  the  arts  depends 
not  so  much  on  the  patronage  of  courts  and  private  persons 
as  on  the  taste  and  genius  of  the  people  at  large,  and  that  a 
people  that  has  learnt  to  exercise  its  judgment  freely  on 
political  matters  is  best  qualified  to  pronounce  an  opinion  on 
questions  of  art.  ^Tis  not  the  nature  of  a  court  (such  as 
courts  generally  are)  to  improve,  but  rather  corrupt  a  taste. 
And  what  is  in  the  beginning  set  wrong  by  their  example,  is 
hardly  ever  afterwards  recoverable  in  the  genius  of  a  nation.'' 
Without  a  public  voice,  knowingh^  guided  and  directed, 
there  is  nothing  which  can  raise  a  true  ambition  in  the  artist; 
nothing  which  can  exalt  the  genius  of  the  workman,  or  make 

'  Advice  to  an  Author,  Pt.  III.,  Sect.  3. 


THEORIES  ON  RELIGION,  BEAUTY,&'  ART,  133 


him  emulous  of  after-fame,  and  of  the  approbation  of  his 
country  and  of  posterity  Everything  co- 
operates, in  a  free  state^  towards  the  improvement  of  art  and 
science.  And  for  the  designing  arts  in  particular,  such  as 
architecture,  painting,  and  statuary,  they  are  in  a  manner 
linked  together.  The  taste  of  one  kind  brings  necessarily 
that  of  the  others  along  with  it.  When  the  free  spirit  of  a 
nation  turns  itself  this  way,  judgments  are  formed;  critics 
arise ;  the  public  eye  and  ear  improve ;  a  right  taste  prevails, 
and  in  a  manner  forces  its  way.  Nothing  is  so  improving, 
nothing  so  natural,  so  congenial  to  the  liberal  arts,  as  that 
reigning  liberty  and  high  spirit  of  a  people,  which,  from  the 
habit  of  judging  in  the  highest  matters  for  themselves,  makes 
them  freely  judge  of  other  subjects,  and  enter  thoroughly  into 
the  characters  as  well  of  men  and  manners,  as  of  the  products 
or  works  of  men  in  art  and  science.''^  The  progress  of  the 
arts  is  affected  by  many  other  causes,  such  as  climate  and 
physical  geography,  wealth,  leisure,  the  peculiar  temperament 
of  a  people,  the  sesthetic  or  unsesthetic  character  of  its 
religious  beliefs,  but  I  cannot  doubt  that  Shaftesbury  is  right 
in  connecting  it,  as  a  general  rule,  with  freedom  of  thought 
and  of  political  institutions.  The  habit  of  unrestrained  dis- 
cussion on  one  class  of  subjects  begets  a  similar  habit  of  dis- 
cussion on  others,  and  hence  one  indispensable  condition  of 
attaining  any  high  excellence  in  art  is  satisfied,  namely,  free 
criticism.  The  mental  activity  too,  which  is  displayed  in 
politics  and  speculation,  has  a  tendency  to  multiply  itself  and 
flow  over  into  other  channels ;  and,  thus,  a  flourishing  state 
of  art  and  literature  usually,  though  not  invariably,  accom- 
panies a  wide-spread  interest  in  philosophy  and  politics.  If 
we  turn  from  these  a  priori  considerations  to  an  examination 
of  facts,  we  shall  find  that  our  anticipations  are  verified  in 
at  least  the  two  most  notable  instances  of  the  outburst  of 


134 


SHAFTESBURY. 


artistic  genius  which  the  world  has  known  — the  age  of  Pericles 
at  Athens  and  the  era  of  the  Renaissance  in  the  Italian 
Republics.  To  discuss  the  cases  of  real  or  seeming  exceptions, 
where  art  has  flourished  or  appeared  to  flourish  in  periods  of 
speculative  and  political  torpor,  or  where  in  periods  of  specu- 
lative and  political  activity  art  has  not,  or,  at  least,  appears 
not  to  have  flourished,  would  compel  me  to  digress  far  too 
widely  from  the  subject  immediately  before  me.  It  may  be 
enough  to  recall  what  I  have  already  said,  that  the  causes  of 
which  Shaftesbury  is  speaking,  though  very  powerful,  are 
only  some  amongst  the  many  causes  which  may  promote  the 
development  of  art,  and  hence  that  the  effect  may  be  produced 
in  a  certain  measure  even  though  they  are  absent,  and  that, 
when  they  are  present,  they  may  be  counteracted,  in  whole 
or  in  part,  by  adverse  influences  of  other  kinds.  It  may  be 
added  that,  on  a  superficial  view  of  a  period  of  history,  we 
are  often  apt  to  suppose  quiescence  when,  on  a  closer  view,  we 
should  find  that  there  are  many  and  important  activities  at 
work.  Specially  is  this  the  case  with  regard  to  the  period  of 
modern  history  whicJi  we  call  the  Middle  Ages,  or  at  least 
the  later  part  of  it.  The  magnificent  churches,  which  were 
then  spread  over  the  face  of  Europe,  were  indeed  reared  in 
ages  of  faith,  but  not,  by  any  means,  in  ages  of  political  or 
even  intellectual  stagnation. 

Shaftesbury's  enthusiastic  and  passionate  love  of  the 
beauties  of  nature  is  constantly  exemplified  throughout  his 
works,  but  it  appears,  as  might  be  expected,  most  prominently 
in  the  prose  hymn  to  Nature  and  God,  which  is  put  into 
the  mouth  of  Theocles  in  the  Moralists.  There  is,  it  must 
be  owned,  a  certain  stiffness  and  affectation  of  style  about 
this  production,  but  I  entertain  no  doubt  that  it  expresses 
the  genuine  sentiments  of  its  author. 


135 


CHAPTER  V. 

RECEPTION  AND  INFLUENCE  OF  SHAFTESBURY's  WRITINGS. 

In  attempting  to  give  an  account  of  the  reception  of 
Shaftesbury's  writings,  I  am  at  once  met  with  the  difficulty, 
that,  whereas  it  would  be  desirable  to  treat  the  reception  of 
his  views  on  ethics  separately  from  that  of  his  views  on 
religion^  it  is  impossible  to  do  so,  without  having  recourse  to 
an  inconvenient  amount  of  repetition.  For  the  positions  that 
moral  distinctions  have  an  independent  basis,  not  being  founded 
merely  on  the  positive  commands  of  God,  and  that  we  ought 
to  follow  virtue  for  its  own  sake,  because  of  its  inherent 
beauty,  and  not  from  the  hope  of  future  reward  or  the  fear 
of  future  punishment,  are  at  once  ethical  and  theological. 
Hence,  there  being  so  much  common  ground,  I  shall  not 
attempt  any  division  according  to  subjects,  but  shall  consider 
each  criticism  or  notice  of  his  writings  as  a  whole,  and,  in 
trying  to  arrange  these  criticisms  and  notices  shall,  for  the 
most  part,  follow  the  chronological  order. 

The  Letter  concerning  Enthusiasm  was  rapidly  followed  by 
three  replies.  These  were  entitled  :  ^'  Remarks  upon  a  Letter 
by  a  Lord  concerning  Enthusiasm,  not  written  in  raillery  but 
good  humour;-'*  '^Bart'lemy  Fair,  or  an  Enquiry  after  Wit, 
by  Mr.  Wotton ^  and    Reflections  upon  a  Letter  concerning 

^  This  was  probably  Dr.  William  Wotlon,  a  voluminous  author,  who,  in 
early  life,  was  celebrated  as  a  youthful  prodigy.  He  was  entered,  in  1676, 
at  Catherine  Hall,  Cambridge,  by  the  Master,  Dr.  John  Eachard,  as  "  Gu- 
lielmus  Wottonus  infra  decem  annos  nec  Hammondo  nec  Grotio  secundus." 


SHAFTESBURY, 


Euthusiasm/^  The  first  and  last  were  published  anonymously, 
but  the  last  is  attributed  to  Dr.  Edward  Fowler,  Bishop  of 
Gloucester.  It  could  now  be  of  no  service  to  any  one  to 
disinter  these  pamphlets.  They  undoubtedly  make  good  two 
points  against  Shaftesbury ;  first,  that,  in  ridiculing  the 
"  enthusiasm of  the  French  Prophets,  he  was  glancing 
obliquely  at  supernatural  pretensions  in  general,  and  thinking 
at  least  as  much  of  the  English  clergy  as  of  the  Cevinol 
peasants ;  second,  that  his  rule  that  Ridicule  is  the  best  test 
of  Truth  is  often  a  most  unsafe  guide.  These  brochures 
betray  much  acerbity,  and  it  is  a  sad  proof  of  the  unfairness 
of  theological  controversy,  when  we  find  a  divine  usually  so 
moderate  as  Dr.  Edward  Fowler  charging  Shaftesbury  with 
blasphemy,  because  he  attacks  what  he  conceives  to  be  certain 
unworthy  conceptions  of  God.  The  argument  as  to  what 
representations  are  and  what  are  not  worthy  of  the  Divine 
Nature  must,  surely,  be  open  to  every  theological  disputant, 
or  else  there  is  no  superstition,  however  gross,  whose  position 
would  not  be  impregnable. 

The  Letter  concerning  Enthusiasm  was  quickly  translated 
into  French,  and  in  1709  was  reviewed  by  Le  Clerc  in  the 
BiUiotheque  Choisie.  The  reviewer  says  that  it  must  be  read 
with  attention,  in  order  to  avoid  giving  it  a  sense  and  an  aim 
which  it  has  not.  He  does  not  know  the  author,  but,  who- 
ever he  may  be,  he  is  a  man  of  wit  and  intelligence  (homme 
cVesprif),  who  is  thoroughly  master  of  his  subject,  and  who 
writes  in  English  with  much  delicacy  and  vivacity.  The 
remaining  treatises  were  reviewed  as  they  appeared,  the  esti- 
mate formed  of  them  being  invariably  a  favourable  one.^  To 
the  principal  treatise,  the  Inquiry  Concerning  Virtue,  Le 
Clerc  bears  testimony  that  it  is  as  solid  in  its  matter,  as  regular 

*  See  Bihliotheque  Choisie,  Tomes  19,  21,  23.  These  reviews  were 
translated  into  English,  and  pubhshed  in  a  small  tract  in  1712. 


INFLUENCE  OF  HIS  WRITINGS.  137 


in  its  method,  and  as  well  written  as  any  piece  on  Morals 
that  he  has  read.  The  author^s  general  aim  in  these  treatises, 
he  sums  up,  is,  so  far  as  I  can  comprehend,  to  establish 
Liberty  and  Virtue,  the  two  things  the  most  precious  and  the 
most  useful  that  men  can  possess;  his  design  deserves  at 
least,  in  this  respect,  to  be  applauded  by  all  those  who  equally 
hate  Slavery  and  Vice,  the  two  things  most  worthy  of  hatred, 
of  which  one  has  ever  heard  speak  amongst  men. 

Shaftesbury  sent  a  copy  of  the  Cliaracterisfics  to  Leibnitz, 
who,  in  a  letter  to  Grimarest,  dated  June  4th,  1712,  expressed 
himself  as  highly  delighted  with  them.^  Leibnitz  had 
ah'eady  seen  and  criticized  the  Letter  concerning  Enthusiasm, 
not  being  acquainted  with  its  authorship.  His  praise  of  it 
is  qualified,  and  he  evidently  regards  Shaftesbury's  principle 
of  raillery  as  capable  of  dangerous  applications.  But,  when 
the  complete  works  were  before  him,  he  changed  his  tone. 
From  a  Lucian,  he  said,  the  author  had  become  a  Plato.*  By 
way  of  acknowledgment  for  the  copy  of  the  Characteristics y 
Leibnitz  returned  a  paper  of  remarks,  which  reached  Shaftes- 
bury at  Naples  in  1712,  and  is  said  to  have  given  him  great 
satisfaction.^  This  "  Judgment,"*^  though  it  took  exception 
to  Shaftesbury's  advocacy  of  the  unsparing  use  of  ridicule  and 
to  his  contempt  for  metaphysical  speculations,  was,  on  the 
whole,  highly  favourable.   I  have  already  quoted  its  encomium 

^  "  Mylord  Shaftesbury,  Anglois,  fils  du  Comte  de  Shaftesbury,  autre- 
fois grand  Cbancelier  d'Angleterre,  a  publid  des  ouvrages  sur  la  Philo- 
sophie  et  la  Morale,  oil  il  y  a  bien  des  choses  qui  me  contentent 
extremement.  11  ra'a  envoye  ses  ouvrages,"  etc.  Leibnitii  Opera,  Ed, 
Dutens,  Tom  v.,  p.  67. 

*  Leibnitz  to  M.  Remond.  Ed.  Dutens,  Tom  v.,  p.  20.  Eecueil  de 
Des  Maizeaux,  Tome  ii.,  p.  191. 

^  Preface  by  Des  Maizeaux  to  the  Eecueil,  p.  Ixxv.  The  remarks 
themselves  occur  in  the  Eecueil,  Tome  ii.,  pp.  267-86.  They  are  also 
contained  in  the  fifth  volume  of  Dutens'  Edition  of  the  works  oi 
Leibnitz. 


138 


SHAFTESBURY, 


on  the  Moralists.  The  Inquiry  concerning  Virtue  it  pro- 
nounces to  be  thoroug-hly  systematic,  and  to  contain  well-estab- 
lished sentiments  on  Virtue  and  Happiness.  It  seems  to  me/' 
says  Leibnitz,  that  I  could  very  easily  reconcile  them  with 
my  own  language  and  opinions;  for,  as  I  have  explained  in 
the  Preface  to  my  Code,  Justice  is,  at  bottom,  nothing  but 
love  in  unison  with  wisdom. ^ 

The  Characteristics y  for  a  book  of  that  time,  had  a  rapid 
circulation.  In  little  more  than  twenty  years,  it  passed  through 
five  editions.  At  first,  the  interest  which  it  excited  was 
mainly  theological,  but  it  was  soon  recognized  that  it  had 
started  important  theories,  which  must  henceforth  be  taken 
account  of,  in  the  science  of  Ethics.  Bernard  de  Mandeville 
was  the  first  moralist  of  any  eminence  who  attacked  Shaftes 
bury^s  system.  Mandeville,  who  is  described  by  Sir  James 
Mackintosh,  not  without  justification,  as  "the  buffoon  and 
sophister  of  the  ale-house,^'  was  the  eighteenth-century  re- 
presentative of  Hobbes — much  coarser,  much  less  able,  and 
vastly  inferior  as  a  writer,  but  still  holding,  generally,  the 
same  views  as  to  the  baseness  and  selfishness  of  human  nature. 
In  one  of  the  Essays  which  are  appended  to  the  second  edition 
of  the  Fable  of  the  Bees  (1723),  entitled  K  Search  into  the 
Nature  of  Society,'^  Mandeville  directly  joins  issue  with 
Shaftesbury.  "  The  generality  of  Moralists  and  Philosophers 
have  hitherto  agreed  that  there  could  be  no  virtue  without 
self-denial ;  but  a  late  author,  who  is  now  much  read  by 
men  of  sense,  is  of  a  contrary  opinion,  and  imagines  that 
men,  without  any  trouble  or  violence  upon  themselves,  may  be 
naturally  virtuous.    He  seems  to  require  and  expects  good- 

"  *'  La  Justice  dans  le  fond  n'est  autre  chose  qu'une  charite  conforme  a 
la  sagesse."  In  the  Preface  to  the  Codex  Juris  Gentium  Diplomaticus, 
Leibnitz  defines  Justice  as  "  Caritas  sapientis,  hoc  est  sequens  sapientisB 
dictata." 


INFLUENCE  OF  HIS  WRITINGS, 


139 


ness  in  his  species,  as  we  do  a  sweet  taste  in  grapes  and  China 
oranges,  of  which,  if  any  of  them  are  sour,  we  boldly  pro- 
nounce that  they  are  not  come  to  that  perfection  their  nature 
is  capable  of.  This  noble  writer  fancies  that,  as  man  is  made 
for  society,  so  he  ought  to  be  born  with  a  kind  affection  to 
the  whole,  of  which  he  is  a  part,  and  a  propensity  to  seek  the 
welfare  of  it.  Jn  pursuance  of  this  supposition,  he  calls  every 
action  performed  with  regard  to  the  public  good,  virtuous ; 
and  all  selfishness,  wholly  excluding  such  a  regard,  vice.  In 
respect  to  our  species,  he  looks  upon  virtue  and  vice  as  perma- 
nent realities  that  must  ever  be  the  same  in  all  countries  and 
all  ages,  and  imagines  that  a  man  of  sound  understanding,  by 
following  the  rules  of  good  sense,  may  not  only  find  out 
that  Pulchrum  et  Honestum  both  in  morality  and  the  works 
of  art  and  nature,  but  likewise  govern  himself  by  his  reason 
with  as  much  ease  and  readiness  as  a  good  rider  manages  a 
well-taught  horse  by  the  bridle.'^ 

Allowing  for  a  slight  tone  of  exaggeration,  this  is  not  an 
unskilful  representation  of  Shaftesbury's  system.  Mande- 
ville  adds,  with  undoubted  accuracy  :  "  Two  systems  cannot  be 
more  opposite  than  his  Lordship's  and  mine.""  It  Shaftes- 
bury takes  too  roseate  a  view  of  human  nature,  it  would  be  im- 
possible to  portray  it  in  darker  tints  than  those  laid  on  by 
Mandeville.  But  this  author  does  not  confine  himself  to  feel- 
ings which  are  directly  and  obviously  selfish,  having  for  their 
object  the  mere  gratification  of  material  and  selfish  wants. 
He  also  largely  employs,  in  the  construction  of  his  system, 
what  may  be  called,  according  as  we  view  them  from 
different  sides,  the  indirectly  selfish,  or  semi-social  feelings  of 
Pride  and  Vanity.  It  is  through  these  mainly  that  our 
desires  are  enlarged,  and  that  society  has  attained  its  present 
vast  proportions.  What  he  altogether  refuses  to  admit,  as 
explanatory  of  any  of  the  phenomena  of  human  life,  is  any 


140 


SHAFTESBUR  F. 


original   feeling   of  sympathy,   kindliness,    or  sociability. 

Man  loves  company,  as  he  does  everything  else,  for  his  own 
sake/''  The  sociableness  of  man  arises  only  from  these  two 
things — the  multiplicity  of  his  desires,  and  the  continual 
opposition  he  meets  with  in  his  endeavours  to  gratify  them/' 

No  societies  could  have  sprung  from  the  amiable  virtues  and 
loving  qualities  of  man,  but,  on  the  contrary,  all  of  them 
must  have  had  their  origin  from  his  wants,  his  imperfections, 
and  the  variety  of  his  appetites/''  "It  would  be  utterly 
impossible,  either  to  raise  any  multitudes  into  a  populous, 
rich,  and  flourishing  nation,  or,  when  so  raised,  to  keep  and 
maintain  them  in  that  condition,  without  the  assistance  of 
what  we  call  evil,  both  natural  and  moral/''''  Nor  have  the 
so-called  virtues  of  the  individual  any  higher  or  purer  origin 
than  the  constitution  of  society.  "  The  moral  Virtues  are 
the  political  offspring  which  Flattery  begat  upon  Pride/' 
And,  in  a  spirit  which  we  should  now  stigmatize  as  thoroughly 
unhistorical,  we  are  told  that  these  two  were  brought  together 
by  "  the  skilful  management  of  wary  politicians,''  in  order 
that  "  the  ambitious  might  reap  the  more  benefit  from,  and 
govern  vast  numbers  of ^' their  subjects  "with  the  greater 
ease  and  security/'  ^  Of  course,  it  is  by  a  systematic  and 
habitual  hypocrisy  that  we  conceal  from  one  another  the  origin 
and  true  nature  of  our  feelings,  at  once  masking  the  senti- 
ments which  we  really  entertain,  and  pretending  to  others 
which  have  no  foundation  in  fact.  "  In  all  civil  societies, 
men  are  taught  insensibly  to  be  hypocrites  from  their  cradle; 
nobody  dares  to  own  that  he  gets  by  public  calamities,  or  even 
by  the  loss  of  private  persons.  The  sexton  would  be  stoned, 
should  he  wish  openly  for  the  death  of  the  parishioners,  though 
everybody  knew  that  he  had  nothing  else  to  live  upon/'  ^ 

'  A  Search  into  the  Nature  of  Society. 
*  Inquiry  into  the  Origin  of  Moral  Virtue, 
A  Search  into  the  Nature  of  Society. 


INFLUENCE  OF  HIS  WRITINGS.  141 


Though,  as  I  have  already  pointed  out  in  preceding 
chapters,  Shaftesbury^s  account  of  human  nature,  as  well  as 
his  analysis  of  moral  virtue,  requires  several  qualifications, 
in  order  to  render  it  conformable  with  facts,  I  think  that 
his  exao-o^erations  are  far  less  remote  from  the  truth  than 
those  of  Mandeville.  The  feelings  which  attract  and  bind 
men  to  others  seem  to  me,  with  Shaftesbury,  to  be  as  primary 
and  as  powerful  as  those  which  centre  wholly  in  themselves. 
But,  even  granting  that  the  social  propensities,  which  now 
appear  to  us  to  be  instinctive,  admit  of  being  traced  back  to 
the  most  indisputably  selfish  source,  we  are  still  far  removed 
from  the  conclusions  to  which  Mandeville  would  bring  us. 
As  Mr.  Leslie  Stephen  remarks,^  the  fallacy  which  he  commits 
is  akin  to  that  which  occurs,  when  men  argue  that,  if  we  are 
descended  from  apes,  we  must  be  apes  still.  Mandeville 
assumes  that,  because  our  virtues  took  their  rise  in  selfish  or 
brutal  forms,  they  are  still  brutality  and  selfishness  in 
masquerade.''^  The  theory  that  the  higher  elements  in  human 
nature  are  successively  formed  out  of  the  lower,  but  so  trans- 
formed by  the  change  that  they  put  on  an  entirely  new 
character,  was  afterwards  started  by  Hartley.  According  to 
him,  our  moral  progress  begins  in  mere  self-seeking,  but  ends 
in  the  pursuit  of  virtue  for  virtue's  sake  and  in  the  dis- 
interested love  of  God  and  man. 

Mandeville's  "Search  into  the  Nature  of  Society''  contains, 
after  the  controversial  manner  of  that  time,  a  personal  attack 
upon  Shaftesbury.  '^A  man  that  has  been  brought  up  in 
ease  and  affluence,  if  he  is  of  a  quiet  indolent  nature,  learns 
to  shun  everything  that  is  troublesome,  and  chooses  to  curb 
his  passions,  more  because  of  the  inconveniences  that  arise 
from  the  eager  pursuit  after  pleasure  than  any  dislike  he  has 
to  sensual  enjoyments."    It  is  possible  that  such  a  person 


*  History  of  English  Thought  in  the  Eighteenth  Century,  Ch.  9. 


142 


SHAFTESBURY. 


may  have  a  better  opinion  of  his  inward  state  than  it  really 
deserves,  and  believe  himself  virtuous,  because  his  passions  lie 
dormant/^  Shaftesbury  should  have  illustrated  his  principles 
of  benevolence  and  patriotism,  not  by  living  in  retirement 
and  inactivity,  but  by  serving  his  country  in  the  field  or  by 
attempting  to  retrieve  its  ruined  finances. 

In  1728,  Mandeville  published  a  second  part  of  the  Fahle 
of  the  Bees  in  the  form  of  Dialogues.  In  these,  Horatio  is 
supposed  to  be  a  disciple  of  Shaftesbury,  while  Cleomenes 
represents  the  opinions  of  Mandeville.  Shaftesbury's  own 
weapon  of  banter  is  turned  against  him,  and  much  fun  is 
made  out  of  the  supposition  of  persons  in  low  employments 
and  humble  positions  in  life  being  actuated  solely  by  a  regard 
to  the  public  weal.  "  The  advantage  that  is  justly  expected 
from  his  writings  can  never  be  universally  felt,  before  that 
public  spirit,  which  he  recommended,  comes  down  to  the 
meanest  tradesmen,  whom  you  would  endeavour  to  exclude 
from  the  generous  sentiments  and  noble  principles  that  are 
already  so  visible  in  many."  Throughout  this  book,  Mande- 
ville ungenerously  attempts  to  bring  odium  on  Shaftesbury 
by  representing  him  as  the  antagonist  of  revealed  religion. 
His  "  design  was  to  establish  heathen  virtue  on  the  ruins  of 
Christianity,'^  while  Mandeville  insinuates  that,  by  insisting 
on  the  universal  corruption  of  human  nature  and  demon- 
strating the  impossibility  of  virtue,  he  had  himself  earned 
the  right  to  be  regarded  as  a  defender  of  the  faith.  How  far 
he  was  ingenuous  in  putting  forth  this  claim,  may  be  deter- 
mined by  any  one  who  will  take  the  trouble  to  look  through 
a  work,  which  he  published  in  1723,  entitled  Free  TJioiights  on 
Beligion,  tJie  Church,  and  National  Happiness. 

The  treatises  contained  in  Mandeville's  first  part  of  the 
Fahle  of  the  Bees  were  answered  in  1724  by  Dr.  Richard 
Fiddes^  a  clergyman  of  the  Church  of  England,  and  chaplain 


INFLUENCE  OF  HIS  WRITINGS. 


to  Robert  Harley,  Earl  of  Oxford.  The  title  of  Dr.  Fiddes' 
work  is  A  General  Treatise  of  Morality/  formed  upon  the  Prin- 
ciples of  Natural  Beason  only.  In  the  Preface,  he  defends 
Shaftesbury  against  the  attacks  of  Mandeville,  and  praises 
him  for  having  asserted,  in  the  strongest  terms,  the  immutable 
distinction  of  Moral  Good  and  Evil,  as  well  as  for  having,  in 
his  Inquiry  concerning  Virtue,  employed  some  very  pertinent 
and  beautiful  illustrations  in  proof  of  W  Fiddes  guards 
himself  against  being  supposed  to  approve  of  Shaftesbury's 
employment  of  Hidicule,  but  thinks  it  '^more  surprising  that 
a  young  nobleman  should  have  published  so  many  tracts,  so 
generally  read  by  men  of  sense,  than  that  there  should  be 
so  few  errors  found  in  them/''  His  own  ethical  theory,  while 
it  places  the  moral  faculty  in  the  reason  and  not  a  sense, 
adopts  Shaftesbury's  idea  of  an  analogy  between  Beautv  and 
Virtue,  and  makes  the  rule  of  action  to  consist  in  the  imitation 
of  that  all-perfect  Being,  who  observes  dder  in  all  His  works, 
proposing  to  Himself  the  most  worthy  ends  and  attaining 
them  by  the  most  regular  and  simple  means. 

Hutcheson's  relation  to  Shaftesbury  may  at  present  be 
passed  over,  as  his  theories  will  form  the  special  subject  of 
the  latter  part  of  this  volume.  When  his  two  first  Essays 
were  published  in  1725,  it  was  stated  on  the  title-page  that 
'Hhe  principles  of  the  late  Earl  of  Shaftesbury  are  explained 
and  defended  against  the  Author  of  the  Fable  of  the  Bees''  In 
the  Preface,  Hutch eson  (who,  it  must  be  recollected,  was  an 
influential  Presbyterian  Minister,  as  well  as  a  Professor  of 
Philosophy),  while  regretting  the  tone  which  Shaftesbury  had 
assumed  towards  Christianity,  says  ^'  it  is  a  very  needless 
attempt''  to  recommend  his  writings;  for  "they  will  be 
esteemed,  while  any  reflection  remains  among  men."  There 
are  indeed  those  who  "  search  into  his  writings,"  simply  for 
the  sake  of  finding  "insinuations  against  Christianity,  that 


144 


SHAFTESBURY. 


they  may  be  the  less  restrained  from  their  debaucheries/'  but 
how  would  ^Miis  indignation  have  been  moved''  against  these 
men,  whose  "\ow  minds  are  incapable  of  relishing  those  noble 
sentiments  of  Virtue  and  Honour,  which  he  has  placed  in  so 
lovely  a  light.'* 

Of  Balguy's  Letter  to  a  Deist,  published  in  1726,  T  shall 
speak  subsequently." 

In  1729,  there  appeared  a  new  edition  of  Butler's  Serjnons, 
with  a  Preface.  This  Preface  contains  a  criticism  of  Shaftes- 
burj^'s  theory  of  Virtue.  Butler  does  himself  credit  by  con- 
fining himself  entirely  to  philosophical  issues.  He  acknow- 
ledges that  Shaftesbury  "has  shown,  beyond  all  contradiction, 
that  virtue  is  naturally  the  interest  or  happiness,  and  vice  the 
misery  of  such  a  creature  as  man,  placed  in  the  circumstances  in 
which  w^e  are  in  this  world."  Further,  "  he  thought  it  a  plain 
matter  of  fact,  as  it  undoubtedly  is,  which  none  could  deny 
but  from  mere  affectation,"  "  that  mankind,  upon  reflection, 
feels  an  approbation  of  what  is  good  and  disapprobation  of 
the  contrary."  So  far  as  he  goes,  then,  Shaftesbury  entirely 
falls  in  with  Butler's  conception  of  a  sound  moral  theory. 
But  there  is  one  material  point  in  which  he  is  deficient.  "The 
not  taking  into  consideration  the  authority,  which  is  implied 
in  the  idea  of  reflex  approbation  or  disapprobation,  seems  a 
material  deficiency  or  omission  in  Lord  Shaftesbury's  Inquiry 
concerning  Virtue."  ^  Before  examining  this  charge,  it  will 
be  necessary  to  state  briefly  what  Butler  himself  understood 
by  the  authority  which  attaches  to  the  idea  of  moral  appro- 
bation. According  to  the  scheme  of  human  nature  which  he 
usually,  though  not  invariably,  follows,  man  possesses,  in 
addition  to  the  several  particular  appetites,  passions,  and 
affections,  and  to  what  may  be  called  the  general  principles  of 
benevolence  and  self-love,  a  certain  directing  or  sovereign 

2  See  p.  159. 


INFLUENCE  OF  HIS  WRITINGS,  145 


principle  of  Conscience  or  Reflection,  which  is  '^^in  kind  and 
in  nature  supreme  over  all  others,  and  which  bears  its  own 
authority  of  being  so/^  Not  only  is  it,  as  a  matter  of  fact, 
supreme,  but  its  supremacy  is  attested  in  all  its  operations. 
"You  cannot  form  a  notion  of  this  faculty,  conscience,  without 
taking  in  judgment,  direction,  superin tendency.  Thi?,  is  a 
constituent  part  of  the  idea,  that  is,  of  the  faculty  itself; 
and  to  preside  and  govern,  from  the  very  economy  and  con- 
stitution of  man,  belongs  to  it.  Had  it  strength,  as  it  has 
right;  had  it  power,  as  it  has  manifest  authority,  it  would 
absolutely  govern  the  world. That  this  principle  (which 
Butler  apparently  regards  as  having  been,  once  for  all,  im- 
planted in  us  by  God  exactly  in  its  present  condition,  and  as 
being  an  equally  trustworthy  guide  in  all  men)  does  invariably 
direct  our  conduct,  is  not  asserted;  otherwise,  according  to 
Butler^s  theory,  we  should  always  act  rightly.  What  is 
meant,  then,  must  be  simply  that,  having  once,  on  reflection 
(a  process,  it  may  be  observed,  which  he  does  not  sufficiently 
analyze),  determined  an  act  to  be  right  or  wrong,  we  cannot 
divest  ourselves  of  the  idea  that  we  ought  to  perform  or  have 
performed  it,  to  refrain  or  have  refrained  from  it,  as  the  case 
may  be.  However  powerful  the  other  parts  of  our  nature, 
and  however  much,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  one  or  more  of  them 
may  predominate,  there  is  no  one  of  them  which  can  ever 
silence  the  still  small  voice  of  approbation  or  reprobation 
which  applauds  or  condemns  our  acts  as  morally  good  or  evil. 
"Interest  and  passion^'  may  "come  in,  and  be  too  strong  for 
reflection  and  conscience,^^  but  still  reflection  and  conscience 
are  always  present  with  us  to  bear  witness  against  them. 
Now  it  may  at  once  be  acknowledged  that  Shaftesbury  seems 
to  admit  that  a  man  may  altogether  lose  the  moral  sense,* 

^  Sermon  II. 

^  See  Inquiry  concerninj^  Virtue,  Bk.  I.,  Pt.  3,  Sects.  1,  2. 

L 


146 


SHAFTESBURY. 


though  such  a  case  would,  of  course,  be  extremel^i  exceptional, 
whereas  Butler  seems  to  maintain  that  the  conscience  can 
never  be  wholly  silenced.    Moreover,  he  insists  much  less 
emphatically  than  Butler  on  the  absolute  character  of  the 
moral  faculty,  regarding  it,  apparently,  as  capable  of  constant 
improvement  or  deterioration,  thereby  undoubtedly  expressing 
himself  in  far  closer  conformity  with  facts.    But,  taking  the 
.ease  of  a  man  whose  moral  constitution  is  in  a  normal  con- 
dition, can  we  fairly  say  that  the     Moral  Sense of  Shaftes- 
bury is  less  authoritative  than  the  "  Conscience of  Butler  ? 
Both  have  for  their  appropriate  object  the  discrimination 
bet\yeen  right  and  wrong.    Both  not  only  issue  directions 
with  regard  to  future  actions,  but  pronounce  a  judgment  on 
actions  already  performed.    And  in  the  view  of  Shaftesbury, 
as  well  as  of  Butler,  and  this  is  the  point  to  which  I  particu- 
larly wish  to  direct  attention,  no  amount  of  pleasure  is  suffi- 
cient to  compensate  for  the  pains  arising  from  an  outraged 
Conscience.      To  want  Conscience,  or  natural  sense  of  the 
odiousness  of  crime  and  injustice,  is  to  be  most  of  all  miser- 
able in  life ;  but,  where  Conscience,  or  Sense  of  this  sort  remains, 
there  whatever  is  committed  against  it  must  of  necessity,  by 
means  of  Reflection,  be  continually  shameful,  grievous,  and 
offensive.^'*    In  the  " Conclusion with  which  Shaftesbury 
sums  up  the  Inquiry  concerning  Virtue,  he  states,  as  the 
results  of  his  examination,  that  "  To  be  wicked  or  vicious  is 
to  be  miserable  and  unhappy      "  That  every  vicious  action 
must  be  self -injurious  and  ill/'  "That  the  state  which  is 
consequent  to  this  defection  of  nature  is  of  all  others  the  most 
horrid,  oppressive,  and  miserable      finally,  "  That  Virtue  is 
the  Good  and  Vice  the  111  of  every-one.^'    Now,  if  all  this 
be  the  case,  and  if  any  normally  constituted  man  be  fully 
conscious  that  it  is  so,  it  is  difficult  to  see  how  the  *^  Moral 
5  Inquiry,  Bk.  II.,  Pt.  2,  §  X. 


INFL  UENCE  OF  HIS  WRITINGS.  147 


Sense could  well  carry  with  it  more  "authority  and  oblig-a- 
tion  than  it  does.  All  oblig'ation  and  authority  must  ulti- 
mately repose  upon  some  sanction,  but  could  the  sanctions  of 
a  virtuous  life  be  stated  in  more  emphatic  language,  or  in 
language  more  likely  to  influence  mankind,  than  that  in 
which  Shaftesbury  states  them  ? 

It  is  part  of  Butler's  charge  against  Shaftesbury's  system 
that  he  acknowledges  that  an  "ill  judgment  on  the  happiness 
of  Virtue^'  is  "without  remedy/'^  The  words  quoted  are  not 
well  chosen.  What  Shaftesbury  means  is  that,  if  a  man  were 
entirely  uninfluenced  by  the  love  or  fear  of  God  (he  is  speaking 
of  an  Atheist),  and,  moreover,  experienced  no  pleasure  from 
the  conciousness  of  well-doing  or  remorse  from  the  conscious- 
ness of  evil-doing,  any  case,  in  which  he  thought  it  to  his 
interest  to  act  viciouslj^,  would  be  w^ithout  remedy.  But  this 
is  no  more  than  to  say  that  a  man,  who  is  entirely  deaf  to  all 
religious  and  moral  sanctions,  will  be  guided  solely  by  a  view 
to  his  own  selfish  and  material  interests — surely,  an  obvious 
truism,  supposing  that  the  conditions  can  be  satisfied.  We 
have  only  to  substitute  the  term  "  conscience  for  the  term 
"  moral  sense,''  and  ask  what  arguments  we  can  address  to  a 
man  in  whom  conscience  and  all  religious  emotion  is  stifled, 
and  Butler  is  plainly  in  the  same  diflSculty  as  Shaftesbury. 
The  fact  is  that  moral  considerations  appeal  only  to  men 
whose  moral  constitution  is  in  a  fairly  normal  condition.  A 
man,  who  is  lost,  as  we  say,  to  a  sense  of  right  and  wrong 
(happily  not  a  very  common  case),  can  only  be  kept  straight 
by  the  prospect  of  reward  or  punishment,  present  or  future. 
Society,  the  laws,  religious  hopes  and  terrors  of  the  coarser 
kind,  can  alone  supply  the  remedy  which  conscience  and  the 
higher  religious  sanctions  have  ceased  to  aflPord. 

I  think  it  probable  that  Butler  would  have  refused  to  admit 

6  Inquiry,  Bk.  I.,  Pt.  3,  §  3. 
L  % 


148 


SHAFTESBURY. 


the  possibility  of  the  case  I  have  put — a  man  in  whom  the 
conscience  has  entirely  ceased  to  assert  itself.  And  here, 
perhaps,  we  have  the  main  difference  between  his  conception 
of  the  moral  faculty  and  that  of  Shaftesbury — that,  whereas, 
according"  to  Shaftesbury,  the  "  moral  sense  may  exist 
in  different  men  in  the  most  varying  degrees,  and  may 
conceivably  be  extinguished  altogether  ;  according  to  Butler, 
the  "  conscience "  is  pretty  nearly  uniform  in  all  men, 
and  can  never  be  wholly  lost.  But,  even  on  the  admission 
that  there  are  a  few  rare  and  exceptional  cases  in  which  the 
conscience  exists  in  only  a  very  low  degree  (and  to  deny  the 
occurrence  of  such  cases  is  surely  to  ignore  obvious  facts 
of  human  nature),  it  app  ars  to  me  that  the  difficulty,  for 
which  Shaftesbury  can  find  no  remedy,  is  one  which  Butler's 
system  is  equally  unable  to  meet. 

The  next  criticism  of  Shaftesbury  which  merits  notice  is 
that  of  Bishop  Berkeley,  contained  in  the  third  Dialogue  of 
AlcipkroUj  or  the  Minute  Philosopher,  which  appeared  in 
1732.  I  agree  with  Mr.  Leslie  Stephen^  in  thinking  that 
"  Berkeley's  Minute  Philosopher  is  the  least  admirable  perform- 
ance of  that  admirable  writer.**'  His  remarks  on  Shaftesbury 
seem  to  me  to  be  mainly  conceived  in  the  narrow  temper  of 
theological  polemic  rather  than  in  that  broad  and  candid 
spirit  which  befits  one  philosopher  examining  the  system  of 
another.  To  insinuate  that  Shaftesbury  was  a  man  "  without 
one  grain  of  religion,''  and  to  represent  him  as  so  little  in 
earnest  about  virtue  as  only^ after  a  nice  inquiry  and  balanc- 
ing on  both  sides/'  to  conclude  that  "  we  ought  to  prefer 
virtue  to  vice,"  are  sheer  calumnies,  which  the  violence  of 
theological  partisanship  can  alone  excuse.  And  even  that  can 
hardly  excuse  the  personal  attack  on  Shaftesbury,  under  the 
name  of  Cratylus,  in  which  the  refined  and  gentle  Berkeley 
'  English  ThougJit  in  the  Eighteenth  Century ^  Ch.  9. 


INFLUENCE  OF  HIS  WRITINGS.  149 


verges  on  coarseness.  But  fairness  to  an  opponent  in  a 
controversy,  we  must  recollect^  was,  at  that  time,  regarded 
rather  as  a  weakness  than  as  a  virtue.  Amongst  the  specific 
points  in  Shaftesbury^s  ethical  theory  which  Berkeley  criticizes 
are  the  vagueness  of  his  idea  of  moral  beauty,  his  conception 
of  a  moral  sense,  different  in  kind  from  the  other  principles  of 
our  nature,  the  attempt  to  construct  a  moral  system  indepen- 
dently of  religion,  and,  above  all,  the  slight  stress  laid  upon 
the  consideration  of  future  rewards  and  punishments,  as  a 
sanction  of  morality.  On  this  last  point  there  can  be  no 
doubt  that  Berkeley  misrepresents  Shaftesbury^s  position. 
Any  one  who  knew  the  Characteristics  only  through  the 
Alciphron  would  suppose  that  Shaftesbury  not  only  en- 
tirely repudiated  the  sanctions  afforded  by  the  expectation 
of  a  future  life,  but  even  denied  its  possibility.^  And  yet,  as 
we  have  seen  in  previous  chapters,  he  looks  forward  to  a 
future  life  as  repairing  the  imperfections  and  inequalities  of 

^  Crito  says  to  Alciphron,  who  represents  a  disciple  of  Shaftesbury : 
"  The  love  therefore  that  you  bear  to  moral  beauty,  and  your  passion  for 
abstracted  truth,  will  not  suffer  you  to  think  with  patience  of  those 
fraudulent  impositions  upon  mankind — Providence,  the  Immortality  of  the 
Soul,  and  a  future  retribution  of  rewards  and  punishments."  That 
Shaftesbury  himself  maintained  the  first  of  these  doctrines  enthusi- 
astically, if  at  least  by  Providence  Berkeley  means  the  same  thing  as  the 
Moral  Government  of  the  Universe,  is  shown  abundantly  by  the  quota- 
tions which  I  have  given  in  ch.  iv.  The  passages  quoted  on  pp.  84-5  of  ch. 
iii.,  and  on  pp.  111-12  of  ch,  iv.,  are,  I  think,  quite  sufficient  to  prove  that  he 
believed  in  a  future  life,  compensating  for  the  apparent  injustice  to  which 
the  virtuous  man  is  often  exposed,  in  the  present  condition  of  things.  Such 
a  state,  of  course,  implies  future  rewards,  but  the  absence  of  reward,  or 
even  a  gradation  of  rev/ards,  implies,  in  a  certain  sense,  punishment. 
Moreover,  the  idea  that  vice  is  attended  by  misery  here  (and,  if  here, 
why  not  hereafter  ?)  is  in  accordance  with  the  whole  genius  of  Shaftesbury's 
philosophy.  Again,  when  he  refers  to  the  sanction  of  future  rewards  and 
punishments,  much  as  he  may  disparage  it,  when  compared  with  the 
higher  sanctions  of  the  moral  sense  and  the  love  of  God,  he  speaks  in  the 


SHAFTESBURY, 


our  present  condition,^  and  admits  the  sanctions  of  future 
rewards  and  punishments,  not  indeed  as  the  highest  sanctions, 
which  they  certainly  are  not,  but  as  being  on  the  same  level  with 
those  of  society  and  human  law.^  The  most  effective  thing 
which  Berkeley  says  against  Shaftesbury  is  that  his  principles 
are  inadequate  to  influence  the  mass  of  mankind.  "  Whatever 
may  be  the  effect  of  pure  theory  upon  certain  select  spirits,  of 
a  peculiar  make,  or  in  some  other  parts  of  the  world,  T  do 
verily  think  that,  in  this  country  of  ours,  reason,  religion, 
and  law  are  all  together  little  enough  to  subdue  the  outward 
to  the  inner  man  ;  and  that  it  must  argue  a  wrong  head  and 
weak  judgment  to  suppose  that  without  them  men  will  be 
enamoured  of  the  golden  mean/^  "In  no  case  is  it  to  be 
hoped  that  to  koKov  will  be  the  leading  idea  of  the  many,  who 
have  quick  senses,  strong  passions,  and  gross  intellects/' 
Berkeley's  own  ethical  theory,  as  Professor  Fraser  says,  was  a 
kind  of  Theological  Utilitarianism.  The  source  of  moral 
obligation  is  the  Divine  Will,  the  end  of  moral  action  is  the 
general  well-being  of  all  men,  and  the  main  motive  to 
practise  morality  is  a  regard  to  our  own  eternal  interests. 
Though  less  coarsely  stated,  Berkeley's  system  is,  in  fact, 
fundamentally  the  same  as  that  of  Locke.^ 

tone  of  a  man  who  regards  it  as  a  real,  and  not  merely  an  imaginary, 
sanction.  On  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  as  distinct  from  its  future 
existence,  I  cannot  recall  any  passage  containing  an  explicit  statement. 
But  the  following  words,  contained  in  the  Fourth  Letter  to  a  Young  Man 
at  the  University,  seem  to  imply  the  belief:  "And  even  heaven  itself 
can  be  no  other  than  the  addition  of  grace  to  grace,  virtue  to  virtue,  and 
knowledge  to  knowledge;  by  which  we  may  still  more  and  more  compre- 
hend the  chief  Virtue,  and  highest  excellence,  the  giver  and  dispenser  of  All." 
8  See  ch.  iv.,  pp.  111-12. 

*  See  ch.  iii.,  pp.  83-7,  where  I  have  discussed  at  length  Shaftesbury's 
Tiews  on  the  several  sanctions  of  morality. 

^  See  particularly  the  Sermon  on  Passive  Obedience,  printed  in  Eraser's 
edition  of  Berkeley's  Works,  Vol.  iii.,  pp,  103 — 139. 


INFLUENCE  OF  HIS  WRITINGS.  151 


Berkeley's  attack  on  Shaftesbury  provoked  a  curious  re- 
joinder, in  which  the  author  affects  to  believe  that  the  3Iiuute 
P/iilosoj)/ier  is  a  forgery.    This  pamphlet  is  dated  1734,  and 

bears  the  title :   A    Vindication  of  the  Reverend  D  

B  y  from  the  scandalous  impiotation  of  being  author  of  a 

late  hook  entitled  Alclphron  or  the  Minute  Philosopher.  It 
brings  forward  very  effectively  various  passages  from  the 
Characteristics  in  reply  to  Berkeley's  criticisms,  and  then  pro- 
ceeds to  carry  on  the  war  against  the  orthodox  divines,  by 
charging  Butler  with  having  repeated  Shaftesbury's  theories, 
without  acknowledgment,  in  the  first  edition  of  his  Sermons^ 
and  grossly  misrepresented  them  in  the  Preface  to  his  second 
edition.  That  Butler's  criticism  of  Shaftesbury  for  not 
having  taken  into  consideration  the  authority  of  conscience 
rests  on  insufficient  grounds,  I  have  already  stated  my  opinion. 
But,  though  there  is  much  resemblance  between  the  moral 
systems  of  Butler  and  Shaftesbury,  there  is  hardly  room  for  a 
charge  of  plagiarism.  Had  Butler's  system  been  unfolded  in 
a  formal  treatise,  it  would  certainly  have  been  strange  if 
Shaftesbury's  name  had  been  passed  over  in  silence ;  but  he 
was  hardly  bound  to  mention  it  either  in  the  text  or  the 
scanty  notes  of  a  short  collection  of  Sermons,  whose  primary 
object  was  probably  religious  edification,  and  the  future  repu- 
tation of  which  he  can  scarcely  himself  have  foreseen. 

In  the  years  1733,  1734,  a  wide  circulation  was  given  to 
Shaftesbury's  theories  on  Natural  Religion,  and  specially  to 
his  scheme  of  optimism,  by  the  publication  of  Pope's  Essai/ 
on  Man.  Several  lines,  especially  of  the  First  Epistle,  are 
simply  statements  from  the  Moralists  done  into  verse.  Whether, 
however,  these  were  taken  immediately  by  Pope  from 
Shaftesbury,  or  whether  they  came  to  him  through  the  papers 
which  Bolingbroke^  had  prepared  for  his  use,  we  have  no 

^  On  Bolingbroke's  connexion  with  the  Essay  on  Man,  see  Elwin's 


152 


SHAFTESBURY, 


data  for  determining.  All  we  can  say  is  that^  so  far  as  Pope 
himself  was  concerned^  his  optimism  must  have  been  derived 
from  an  English  source.  Of  Leibnitz^  scraps  of  whose  philo- 
sophy had^  however,  filtered  into  the  Essay  through  Bolingbroke, 
he  professed  himself,  some  years  later,  as  entirely  ignorant.'* 

Voltaire  frequently  mentions  Shaftesbury.  In  the  Lettres 
sur  les  Anglais  or  Lettres  Philoso^Jwiues,^  published  in  1734, 
he  insists  on  the  identity  of  Shaftesbury^s  religious  and 
philosophical  system  with  that  of  the  Essai/  on  Man.  After 
highly  lauding  Pope^s  poem,  he  proceeds  to  say  that  the  main 
arocument  of  it  is  to  be  found  entire  in  the  Characteristics. 

And  I  do  not  know  why,^'  he  adds,  "  Mr.  Pope  should  have 
ascribed  the  merit  of  it  exclusively  to  Lord  Bolingbroke, 
without  saying  a  word  of  the  celebrated  Shaftesbury,  the 
pupil  of  Locke." ^  In  later  life,  as  is  well  known,  Voltaire 
adopted  a  different  attitude  towards  optimism,  if  not  towards 
theism  itself.  The  maxim  Whatever  is,  is  best presented 
itself  to  him  as  not  only  untrue,  but  ridiculous.  And  this 
change   of  mind   is   exemplified   in   his   language  about 

Introduction  to  that  poem,  Pope's  Works,  Vol.  ii.  Bolingbroke's  own 
sentiments  on  Philosophy  and  Natural  Religion  are  to  be  found  in  the 
Essays  and  Fragments,  printed  in  his  collected  works. 

See  a  letter  to  Warburton,  quoted  by  Mr.  Elwin,  Pope's  Works, 
Vol.  ii.,  p.  293.  *'  It  cannot  be  unpleasant  to  you  to  know  that  I  never 
in  m}'  life  read  a  line  of  Leibnitz," 

^  Letter  xxii.  Cp.  Dictionnaire  Philosophique,  Art.  "  Bien,"  and 
the  Preface  to  the  Poem  on  the  Earthquake  of  Lisbon.  Pope  mentions 
the  Inquhy  concerning  Virtue  as  well  as  the  Moralists,  as  having  supplied 
material  for  the  Essay  on  Man. 

^  Ij' Essai  sur  V Homme  de  Pope  me  parait  le  plus  beau  poeme  didac- 
tique,  le  plus  utile,  le  plus  sublime  qu'on  ait  jamais  fait  dans  aucune 
langue.  II  est  vrai  que  le  fond  s'en  trouve  tout  entier  dans  les  Caracter- 
istiques  du  lord  Shaftesbury;  et  je  ne  sais  pourquoi  M.  Pope  en  fait 
uniquement  honneur  a  M  de  Bolingbroke,  sans  dire  un  mot  du  celebre 
Shaftesbury,  eleve  de  Locke. 


INFLUENCE  OF  HIS  WRITINGS.  153 


Shaftesbury.  Contrasting  the  hves  of  optimists  with  their 
theories,  he  says  of  Shaftesbury  that,  though  he  made 
optimism  the  mode,  he  was  himself  a  most  miserable  man/ 
This  statement,  if  not  entirely  without  foundation,  is  at  least 
a  gross  exaggeration.  Voltaire,  like  many  other  writers  who 
have  obtained  a  reputation  for  brilliancy,  when  he  found  an 
epigram  neatly  expressing  a  preconceived  idea,  did  not  always 
pause  to  inquire  whether  it  was  an  accurate  representation 
of  facts, 

Warburton,  in  his  Dedication  of  the  Divine  Legation  to  the 
Free-Thinkers  (1738),  has  a  rambling  attack  upon  Shaftesbury, 
in  which  he  accuses  him  of  cruel  and  unworthy  treatment  of 
Locke,  "the  honour  of  this  age  and  the  instructor  of  the 
future.'^  It  was  Lockers  love  of  Christianity,  he  says,  "  that 
seems  principally  to  have  exposed  him  to  his  pupiPs  bitterest 
insults."  The  maxim  that  Ridicule  is  the  test  of  Truth  ^* 
is  justly  handled  with  severity.  The  moral  sense  "  is  treated 
with  contumely.  At  the  same  time,  it  is  acknowledged  that 
Shaftesbury  "had  many  excellent  qualities,  both  as  a  man 
and  a  writer."  Warburton's  tribute  to  his  personal  character 
has  been  already  quoted.^  "  In  his  writings,''  he  adds,  "  he 
hath  shown  how  largely  he  had  imbibed  the  deep  sense,  and 
how  naturally  he  could  cop}''  the  gracious  manner  of  Plato." 

The  continued  interest  felt  in  Shaftesbury's  writings  is 
shown  by  the  appearance,  in  1751,  of  an  elaborate  monograph 
entitled  Essays  on  the  Characteristics,  by  John  Brown,  M.A. 
Brown,  who  was  afterwards  appointed  Vicar  of  Newcastle- 
upon-Tyne,  is  best  known  for  his  Estimate  of  the  Manners 
ayid  Principles  of  the  Times,  of  which  seven  editions  were 
printed  in  little  more  than  a  year.  He  was  himself  a  liberal 
divine  of  very  varied  culture,  and  entertained  strong  sympa- 

Ilfaut  prendre  un  Parti,  a  brochure  published  in  1772. 
8  See  p.  40. 


154 


SHAFTESBURY, 


thies  with  the  cause  of  liberty,  both  civil  and  ecclesiastical. 
It  is  said  that  he  was  moved  to  write  on  the  Characteristics 
by  Warburton,  and  that  the  idea  of  a  special  refutation  of 
Shaftesbury  had  been  suggested  to  Warburlon  by  Pope,  who 
told  him  that  to  his  knowledge  the  Characteristics  had  done 
more  harm  to  Revealed  Reli<>'ion  in  En^iland  than  all  the 
works  of  infidelity  put  together/'^  Brown  is,  for  the  most 
part,  a  courteous  antagonist.  The  opening  sentence  of  his 
work  bears  testimony  to  the  wide-spread  popularity  of 
Shaftesbury  as  an  author.  It  has  been  the  fate  of  Lord 
Shaftesbury's  Characteristics,  beyond  that  of  most  other  books, 
to  be  idolized  by  one  party,  and  detested  by  another.  While 
the  first  regard  it  as  a  work  of  perfect  excellence,  as  contain- 
ing everything  that  can  render  mankind  wise  and  happy ;  the 
latter  are  disposed  to  rank  it  amongst  the  most  pernicious  of 
Vi^ritings,  and  brand  it  as  one  continued  heap  of  fustian, 
scurrility,  and  falsehood."  Brown  himself  does  not  agree 
with  either  of  these  extreme  estimates.  "  The  noble  writer 
hath  mingled  beauties  and  blots,  faults  and  excellencies,  with 
a  liberal  and  unsparing  hand/'  One  excellency  of  the 
Characteristics  specially  appeals  to  his  admiration,  namely, 
"  that  generous  spirit  of  freedom  which  shines  throughout  the 
whole."  "  The  noble  author  everywhere  asserts  the  natural 
privilege  of  man,  which  hath  been  so  often  denied  him,  of 
seeing  with  his  own  eyes  and  judging  by  his  own  reason.''"' 
On  the  two  first  Essays,  as  well  as  on  parts  of  the  Miscellanous 
Reflections,  he  is  naturally  very  severe,  but,  as  regards  the 
Soliloquy,  **  bating  only  a  few  accidental  passages,"  he  has, 
"  little  more  to  do  than  to  approve  and  admire.^'  In  the 
main  part  of  his  task,  the  examination  of  the  Inquiry  concern- 
ing Virtue,  Brown  shows  considerable  acuteness,  and  a  much 


Chalmers'  Biographical  Dictionary^  Art.  "Brown  (John).'* 


INFLUENCE  OF  HIS  WRITINGS.  155 


clearer  conception,  than  most  writers  of  his  time,  of  the  real 
meaning"  of  ethical  problems.  He  is  himself  what  we  should 
now  call  an  Utilitarian,  insisting*  on  the  necessity  of  a  definite 
criterion  of  actions,  and  placing  that  criterion  in  their 
tendency  to  promote  or  impair  the  general  weal.  Virtue,  he 
maintains,  is  no  other  than  the  conformity  of  our  affections 
with  the  public  good,''  or  the  voluntary  production  of  the 
greatest  happiness.'^  We  have  already  seen^  that  Shaftesbury 
substantially  adopts  the  same  criterion  of  actions  as  Brown, 
though  the  fact  that  he  does  so  is  obscured  by  the  metaphori- 
cal language  which  he  employs  in  describing  Virtue  and 
A^ice,  as  well  as  by  the  immediate  character  which  he  ascribes 
to  the  decisions  of  the  Moral  Sense.  The  theory  of  an 
immediate  moral  faculty  and  the  adoption  of  a  test,  often 
requiring  much  time  and  pains  in  its  application,  are,  un- 
doubtedly, to  a  certain  extent,  inconsistent,^  but  I  should 
myself  rather  find  fault  with  his  account  of  the  "  Moral  Sense 
than  accuse  him  of  having  iailcd  to  discover  any  definite 
criterion  of  right  and  wrong.  Brown's  strictures,  however, 
on  the  vague  and  metaphorical  character  of  his  language,  and 
on  the  want  of  system  in  his  speculations,  are,  it  must  be 
confessed,  far  from  being  without  justification.  On  the 
ultimate  origin  of  the  distinction  of  Right  and  Wrong  Brown 
says  nothing,  though  I  imagine  he  would  have  placed  it  in 
the  Will  of  God.  As  respects  the  sanctions  of  virtuous 
conduct,  he  is  not  completely  at  issue  with  Shaftesbury,  wide 
as  their  differences  are.  He  grants  that  there  are  a  few 
exceptional  cases  in  which  the  purely  moral  sanction  may  be 
sufficient  to  ensure  right  action.  ''In  minds  of  a  gentle  and 
generous  disposition,  where  the  sensual  appetites  are  weak, 

^  See  ch.  iii.,  pp.  72-6. 

2  The  extent  to  which  they  are  inconsistent  has  already  been  discussed 
in  ch.  iii.,  pp.  90-94. 


156 


SHAFTESBURY, 


the  imagination  refined,  and  the  benevolent  affections  natu- 
rally predominant ;  these  very  affections,  and  the  moral  sense 
arising  from  them,  will  in  all  the  common  occurrences  of  life 
secure  the  practice  of  virtue/'  The  higher  religious  sanction, — 
the  example  of  a  Perfect  Being,  and  the  love  and  adoration 
inspired  by  Him, — which  occupies  so  prominent  a  position  in 
Shaftesbury's  system,  Brown  regards  as  "  not  calculated  for 
use/"*  and  ^^only  existing  in  a  mind  taken  up  in  vision/''  God, 
except  possibly  to  a  few,  who  are  capable  of  the  most  exalted 
degrees  of  virtue,  is  simply  the  dispenser  of  rewards  and 
punishments,  which  supplement  the  terrors  of  human  law. 
The  mass  of  mankind,  in  a  large  proportion  of  their  actions, 
can  only  be  deterred  from  vice  by  ^'  the  lively  and  active 
belief  of  an  all-seeing  and  all-powerful  God,  who  will  hereafter 
make  them  happy  or  miserable,  according  as  they  designedly 
promote  or  violate  the  happiness  of  their  fellow-creatures/'' 
This  proposition  is  possibly  true,  but,  when  the  writer  goes 
on  to  say  "  And  this  is  the  Essence  of  Religion,^"'  one  feels 
that,  however  orthodox  he  may  be  in  his  opinions,  his  religious 
feeling  is  on  a  lower  level  than  that  of  the  author  of  the  Moralists. 
Brown's  ethical  theories,  in  respect  both  to  the  criterion  and  the 
sanctions  of  morality,  are  very  similar  to  those  of  Paley,  whose 
work  on  Moral  and  Political  Philosophy  was  published  in 
1785.  He  would  hardly,  however,  have  gone  to  the  length 
of  defining  Virtue  as  "  the  doing  good  to  mankind,  in 
obedience  to  the  Will  of  God,  and  for  the  sake  of  everlasting 
happiness/'^  a  definition  which  implies  that  no  act,  not  expressly 
done  for  the  purpose  of  avoiding  future  punishment  or  secur- 
ing future  reward,  can  properly  be  called  virtuous.  There 
was  a  growing  tendency  among  the  divines  of  the  eighteenth 
century,  inspired  probably  by  the  fear  of  Deism,  to  suppose 
that  any  moral  system  which  appealed,  in  the  last  resort^  to 

2  Paley's  Moral  and  Metajphysical  Fhiloso;phy,  Book  I.,  cli.  7. 


INFL  UENCE  OF  HIS  WRITINGS. 


157 


other  sanctions  than  those  of  human  law,  the  opinions  of 
society,  or  future  rewards  and  punishments,  must  necessarily 
be  irreligious. 

Brown's  last  Essay  {On  Revealed  Beligion  and  CJiristlanify) 
contains  some  very  hard  hitting,  and  not  unfrequenlly,  I 
think,  exaggerates  Shaftesbury's  hostility  to  Revealed  Religion 
and  the  Doctrines  of  the  Church.  A  special  example  of  un- 
fairness is,  perhaps,  to  be  found  in  the  section  (Sec.  2)  where 
he  tries  to  show  that  Shaftesbury  did  not  believe  in  the  sanc- 
tion of  future  punishment,  and  attempted  designedly  to 
weaken  its  force,  thereby  "  unhinging  society  to  the  utmost 
of  his  power. ■'^  Shaftesbury's  position  on  this  subject  was,  of 
course,  difficult  to  understand  by  men,  like  Berkeley  and 
Brown,  whose  whole  habit  of  thinking  on  ethical  questions 
lay  in  the  direction  of  theological  utilitarianism,  but  still  the 
extent  to  which  they  misunderstood  him  argues  much  want 
of  care,  I  should  not  like  to  say  want  of  candour,  on  their 
part.  The  severity  of  the  rest  of  the  Essay  would  probably 
have  been  tempered,  had  Brown,  in  addition  to  his  strong 
reasoning  powers,  possessed  any  sense  of  humour.  Shaftes- 
bury's banter  is  mercilessly  analyzed,  and  every  sentence 
discussed  is  treated  as  if  it  formed  part  of  a  grave  legal  docu- 
ment. Moreover,  no  allowance  is  made  for  the  varying  moods 
of  a  man  who  seems  to  have  been,  by  constitution,  peculiarly 
fitful.  In  the  interpretation  of  a  wuter  of  this  kind,  much 
greater  stress,  ought  always  to  be  laid  on  the  passages  in 
which  he  is  plainly  in  a  serious  vein,  than  on  those  in  which 
he  is  indulging  a  turn  for  ridicule  or  badinage.  At  the  same 
time,  I  do  not  deny  that  the  stern  reproofs  dealt  out  to 
Shaftesbury  by  Brown  and  some  of  his  other  antagonists,  for 
the  unseemly  manner  in  which  he  often  handles  sacred 
subjects,  were,  in  many  cases,  richly  deserved.  These 
authors  seem,  however,  frequently  to  have  suspected  de- 


158 


SHAFTESBURY, 


sign,  where  Shaftesbury  was  only  following  the  bent  of  his 
temper. 

Brown^s  book  immediately  provoked  three  replies.  Two  of 
these,  A  Vindication  of  Lord  Shafleshur^  on  the  Subject  of  Ridi- 
cule, and  A  Vindication  of  Lord  Shafteshury  on  the  Subjects  of 
Morality  and  Religion,  were  written  by  a  Mr.  Charles  Bulkley, 
a  dissenting  minister.  The  authorship  of  the  third,  a  smartly- 
written  pamphlet,  entitled  Ani^nadversions  on  Mr.  Broion's 
Three  Essays  on  the  Characteristics,  is,  I  believe,  unknown. 

Leland^s  View  of  the  Principal  Beistical  Writers,  which 
was  published  in  1754,  contains  a  criticism  of  Shaftesbury. 
It  gives  the  author  "  a  real  concern,  that,  among  the  writers 
who  have  appeared  against  revealed  religion,'"'  he  is  "  obliged 
to  take  notice  of  the  noble  author  of  the  Characteristics,^'  and 
he  states  that  "  some  are  not  willing  to  allow  that  he  is  to  be 
reckoned  in  the  number.'^  He  proceeds,  nevertheless,  to 
repeat  in  a  briefer  form  and  in  a  milder  tone  the  charges  of 
endeavouring  to  undermine  Christianity  and  of  disparaging 
the  supernatural  sanctions  of  conduct  which  had  recently  been 
levelled  against  the  Characteristics  by  Brown.  He  recognizes, 
however,  Shaftesbury's  refined  sentiments  on  the  beauty  and 
excellence  of  virtue,''^  and  acknowledges  that  he  hath  often 
spoken  honourably  of  a  wise  and  good  providence,  which 
ministers  and  governs  the  whole  in  the  best  manner ;  and 
hath  strongly  asserted,  in  ojDposition  to  Mr.  Hobbes,  the 
natural  differences  between  good  and  evil ;  and  that  man  was 
originally  formed  for  society  and  the  exercise  of  mutual  kind- 
ness and  benevolence ;  and  not  only  so,  but  for  religion  and 
piety  too."*^  In  a  supplement  to  his  work,  Leland  included 
another  letter  on  Shaftesbury,  defending  his  first,  but  fully 
recognizing  the  exalted  views  of  natural  religion,  and  of  the 
intimate  connexion  between  the  religious  and  moral  feelings, 
which  are  to  be  found  scattered  up  and  down  the  Characteristics. 


INFLUENCE  OF  HIS  WRITINGS.  159 


Of  all  the  replies  which  were  elicited  by  Shaftesbury's 
statements  on  the  sanctions  of  a  future  life,  the  most  tem- 
perate and  effective  is  that  of  John  Balguj^,  the  friend  of 
Hoadly  and  disciple  of  Clarke^  who,  in  1726,  published  a 
pamphlet  entitled  J  Letier  to  a  Beist  concerning  the  Beauty 
and  Excellency  of  Moral  Virtue,  and  the  support  and  improve- 
ment which  it  receives  from  the  Christian  Revelation.  While 
admitting  that  the  perfection  of  moral  goodness  consists  in 
the  love  of  Virtue  for  Virtue's  sake,  or,  as  he  afterwards 
expressed  it  in  a  postscript,  "in  being  influenced  solely  by  a 
regard  to  rectitude  and  right  reason,  and  the  intrinsic  fitness 
and  amiableness  of  such  actions  as  are  conformable  thereto,^' 
he  maintains  that  the  hope  of  reward  and  fear  of  punishment, 
especially  in  a  future  life,  are  indispensable  as  auxiliary 
motives  to  the  great  majority  of  mankind.  "  In  short,  the 
question  is  not,  which  motives  are  the  purest  and  most 
sublime;  but  which  are  most  useful,  and  most  effectual,  to 
prevail  with  degenerate  man  and  accomplish  his  reformation/' 
At  the  same  time,  he  acknowledges  that,  cceteris  paribus,  the 
more  disinterestedly  any  agent  acts,  the  more  virtuous  he  is. 

Balguy's  tract  on  The  Foundation  of  Moral  Goodness, Qoniviin' 
ing  an  examination  of  Hutcheson's  ethical  system,  will  be 
considered  more  conveniently  in  a  subsequent  chapter.  The 
systems  of  Shaftesbury  and  Hutcheson  are  there  attacked, 
not  from  the  side  of  Theological  Utilitarianism,  but  from  that 
of  what  has  been  called  the  Rational  School  of  Moralists. 

Shaftesbury  had  several  imitators,  whose  works  have  now 
sunk  into  oblivion,  and,  besides  the  authors  already  named, 
there  were,  of  course,  many  others,  in  the  first  half  of  the 
eighteenth  century,  who  directly  or  incidentally  criticized  his 
opinions.  The  instances,  however,  which  1  have  already 
given,  are  quite  sufficient  to  show  the  character  of  the  recep- 
tion accorded  to  his  works  in  his  own  country,  and,  if  we  take 


i6o 


SHAFTESBURY. 


in  Balguy^s  criticism  of  Hutcheson,  the  nature  of  the  objec 
tions  urged  against  them. 

Of  the  judgments  of  Le  Clerc,  Leibnitz,  and  Voltaire, 
I  have  spoken  in  earlier  portions  of  this  chapter.  The 
influence  of  Shaftesbury  on  the  earlier  phases  of  Diderot^s 
ethical  and  theological  opinions  is  notorious.^  In  1745 
Diderot  adapted  or  reproduced  the  '^Inquiry  concerning 
Virtue  in  what  was  afterwards  known  as  his  "  Essai  sur  le 
Merite  et  la  Vertu.'^  Though  announced  as  a  translation  from 
Shaftesbury,  this  work  represents  the  spirit  rather  than  the 
words  of  the  Inquiry.  The  author  tells  us  that  he  seldom  had 
recourse  to  the  original  during  the  compositiom  of  his  book, 
but  yet  all  its  distinctive  features  are  faithfully  retained. 
Specially  is  this  the  case  with  the  intimate  connexion  which 
Shaftesbury  establishes  between  Virtue  and  Natural  Religion^ 
a  connexion  emphasised  even  still  more  by  Diderot  than  by 
his  English  prototype.  In  the  Biscours  Prellminaire,  Diderot 
dwells  specially  on  the  religious  character  of  Shaftesbury^^ 
philosophy,  and  protests  warmly  against  confounding  him 
with  the  Asgills,  the  Tindals,  and  the  Tolands,  ^'  bad  Protes- 
tants and  miserable  writers." 

In  1769,  a  French  translation  of  the  whole  of  Shaftesbury^s 
works,  including  the  letters,  was  published  at  Geneva. 

I  must  now  say  something  of  the  popularity  accorded  to 
Shaftesbury's  writings  in  Germany,  during  the  latter  part  of 
the  eighteenth  and  the  earlier  part  of  the  nineteenth  century. 
Translations  of  separate  treatises  into  German  began  to  be 

*  See  Morley's  Diderot,  Vol  i.,  pp.  41 — 48.  Mr.  Morley  has  some 
interesting  remarks  on  the  historical  circumstances  which  directed 
Diderot's  attention  to  Shaftesbury.  He  draws  a  parallel  between  the 
extravagances  of  the  French  Prophets  in  England  at  the  beginning  of  the 
century,  which  occasioned  Shaftesbury's  Letter  concerning  Enthusiasm, 
and  the  subsequent  outburst  of  fanaticism  amongst  the  Jansenists  in 
Paris. 


INFLUENCE  OF  HIS  WRITINGS.  i6i 


made  in  1738,  and  in  1776 — 1779  there  appeared  a  complete 
German  translation  of  the  Characteristics}  Hermann  Hettner  ^ 
says  that,  not  only  Leibnitz,  Voltaire,  and  Diderot,  but  Lessing, 
Mendelssohn,  Wieland,  and  Herder  drew  the  most  stimulating 
nutriment  from  Shaftesbury.  "  His  charms,"  he  adds,  ''are 
ever  fresh.  A  new-born  Hellenism,  a  divine  cultus  of  Beauty 
presented  itself  before  his  inspired  soul.""  Herder  is  specially 
eulogistic.  In  the  Aclrastea^  he  pronounces  the  Moralists  to 
be  a  composition,  in  form  well-nigh  worthy  of  Grecian 
antiquity,  and  in  its  contents  almost  superior  to  it.  It  is  per- 
haps the  most  beautiful  Metaphysic  which  has  ever  been 
imagined.  To  any  young  man,  who  has  a  power  of  compre- 
hending the  noble  and  the  beautiful,  it  must  be  a  peculiarly 
rich  source  of  inspiration.  Without  it,  even  with  the  assist- 
ance of  Bolingbroke''s  papers,  the  best  verses  in  Pope's  Essay 
on  Man  would  hardly  have  been  written,  and  Thomson's  Muse 
had  the  impassioned  Theocles  for  its  guide.  In  France,  it  was 
under  the  impulse  communicated  by  Bacon  and  Shaftesbury 
that  Diderot  pursued  his  peculiar  path.  '*  This  Virtuoso  of 
Humanity,'' he  says  in  another  place,®  exercised  a  signal 
influence  on  the  best  heads  of  the  eighteenth  century,  on  men 
who  honestly  devoted  themselves  to  the  culture  of  the  true, 
the  beautiful,  and  the  good."  The  interest  felt  by  German 
literary  men  in  Shaftesbury,  which  had  pretty  nearly  died  out 
in  the  middle  of  this  century,  has  been  recently  revived  by  the 
publication  of  two  excellent  monographs,  one  dealing  with 
him  mainly  from  the  theological  side  by  Dr.  Gideon  Spicker, 
Freiburg  i.  B.,  1872,  the  other  dealing  with  him  mainly  from 
the  philosophical  side  by  Dr.  Georg  von  Gizycki,  Leipzig, 

*  Yon  Gizycki,  Die  Philosophie  Shaftesbury  s.  Yorrede. 

'  LiteratMrgescMchte  des  aclitzelinten  Jahrhunderts,  Erster  Theil, 
7  Adrastea,  I.,  14,  1801.    Shaftesburi,  Geist  und  Frohsinn, 

*  Brief e  zic  Beforderung  der  Humanitdt,  1794.    Brief  23. 

M 


SHAFTESBURY. 


1876.  Both  these  works^  and  perhaps  I  may  say  specially  the 
latter,  present  the  German  reader  with  a  faithful  and  graphic 
portraiture  of  the  English  essayist  and  philosopher.^ 

By  fur  the  most  important  influence^  if  we  look  to  perma- 
nent results,  which  Shaftesbury  exercised  on  the  development 
of  subsequent  speculation  was  in  his  character  of  a  moralist. 
Religious  scepticism,  at  the  beginning  of  the  eighteenth  cen- 
tury, was  in  the  air,  and,  at  that  period,  it  naturally  took  the 
form  of  Deism,  that  is  to  say,  the  rejection  of  a  positive 
revelation  combined  with  the  belief  in  a  personal  God,  a 
Providence,  and,  in  some  cases,  a  future  state  of  rewards  and 
punishments.  Shaftesbury,  if  I  may  be  allowed  the  expres- 
sion, was  a  Deist  of  the  right,  and  was  fully  as  much  occupied 
in  presenting  the  positive  as  the  negative  parts  of  his 
doctrine.  Moreover,  the  latter  were  rather  insinuated  than 
openly  avowed.  These  circumstances,  combined  with  the 
fact  that  he  was  an  English  peer,  belonging  to  a  family 
distinguished  even  in  the  English  Peerage,  doubtless  procured 
for  him  readers,  who  would  have  scorned  to  pay  any  attention 
to  the  works  of  the  coarser  and  more  vulgar  Deists.  But, 
though  Shaftesbury  may  have  swelled  the  volume,  he  did  not 
alter  the  direction,  of  the  sceptical  tendencies  of  the  time. 
In  one  respect  only  can  he  be  said  to  have  exerted  more 
than  a  passing  influence  on  religious  thought,  and  that  is 
by  the  scheme  of  Optimism  which  he  propounded  simul- 
taneously with  Leibnitz,  and  which,  mainly  through  the 
verses  of  Pope,  coloured  much  of  the  religious  sentiment  of 
the  eighteenth  century. 

3  A  recent  monograph,  "  Einfluss  der  englischen  Philosophen  seit 
Bacon  auf  die  deutsche  Philosophie  des  18  Jahrhunderts,"  by  G.  Zart, 
Berlin,  1881,  gives  much  detailed  information  on  the  relation  of  Shaftes- 
bury and  Hutcheson  to  the  history  of  German  Philosophy  in  the 
eighteenth  century. 


INFLUENCE  OF  HIS  WRITINGS,  163 


Shaftesbury's  influence  on  the  subsequent  history  of  !Moral 
Philosophy  was  exercised  at  least  as  much  indirectly  through 
Hutcheson  as  directly  through  his  own  writings.  Hence  I 
must  distribute  what  I  have  to  say  on  this  head  between  the 
present  chapter  and  the  chapter  with  which  I  shall  conclude 
this  volume.  It  appears  to  me  that,  in  reference  to  subsequent 
speculation,  the  points  which  it  is  most  important  to  notice  in 
Shaftesbury^s  ethical  theory  are  four — namely,  his  adoption  of 
a  tendency  to  promote  the  general  welfare  as  the  criterion  of 
action,  his  conception  of  Virtue  as  consisting  mainly  in  the 
exercise  of  the  benevolent  affections,  the  reference  of  moral 
distinctions  to  grounds  independent  of  theology,  and  the 
theory  of  a  moral  sense,  pronouncing  immediately  on  the 
character  of  actions. 

The  first  of  these  doctrines  lies  more  on  the  surface  in 
Cumberland  than  it  does  even  in  Shaftesbury,  and  it  seems  to 
be  implied  in  the  ethical  speculations  of  Bacon.^  In  Hutcheson 
it  becomes,  as  we  shall  see,  sufficiently  prominent  to  be  ex- 
pressed in  a  formula ;  with  Hume  it  is  the  main  doctrine  of 
ethics ;  and  in  Bentham,  under  the  name  of  the  Greatest  Hnp- 
piness  principle,  it  excludes  almost  entirely  all  the  other 
questions  of  Moral  Philosophy. 

That  Virtue  consists  mainly  in  the  exercise  of  the  Benevo- 
lent Affections  is  a  proposition  which  is  implicitly  recognized 
by  many  of  the  earlier  of  the  modern  writers  on  ethics. 
Passages  to  this  effect  might  easily  be  discovered  in  Bacon, 
Grotius,  Puffendorf,  Cumberland,  and  what  are  called  the 
Cambridge  Platonists;  and  Leibnitz,  as  we  have  seen,^ 
declared  his  own  system  to  be,  on  this  point,  in  harmony  with 
that  of  Shaftesbury.  It  seems  indeed  to  follow  naturally 
from  the  Christian  teaching  that  "  love  is  the  fulfilling  of  the 

1  See  mj  "  Bacon/'  in  this  series,  pp.  169—174. 
«  See  p.  138. 

M  % 


i64 


SHAFTESBURY. 


law/'  and  Hobbes'  attempt  to  build  up  a  system  of  morality 
resting  solely  on  the  selfish  feelings  was,  when  first  started, 
almost  universally  regarded  as  a  paradox.  The  peculiarity  of 
Shaftesbury  and  Hutcheson  is  not  so  much  that  they  empha- 
sized the  importance  of  the  benevolent  affections  as  that  their 
teaching  seem  to  throw  into  the  shade  the  self-regarding  and 
prudential  virtues,  which  are  so  essential  to  the  happiness 
of  the  individual  and  the  material  well-being  of  society.  By 
Hume  and  Adam  Smith  the  balance  was  restored,  and,  while 
the  supreme  excellence  of  the  sympathetic  feelings  was  fully 
recognized,  the  various  forms  of  self-regard  and  self-respect 
were  shown,  when  properly  directed  and  kept  within  proper 
bounds,  to  merit  the  approbation  of  mankind  at  large.^  Not- 
withstanding their  exaggerations,  however,  Shaftesbury  and 
Hutcheson  may  be  considered  as  having  permanently  aff'ected 
for  good  the  course  of  moral  speculation  in  England  by 
diverting  it  from  the  sordid  channels  in  which  it  was  begin- 
ning to  run,  and  by  insisting,  if  even  too  strongly,  on  the 
fact  that  it  is  in  the  generous,  sympathetic,  and  benevolent 
side  of  human  nature  that  we  must  seek  for  the  source  of  the 
most  useful  as  well  as  the  noblest  virtues. 

One  of  the  main  objections  taken  to  Shaftesbury's  ethical 
system  by  the  critics  of  his  own  and  the  next  generation  was 
that  he  traced  the  origin  of  moral  distinctions  to  the  make  and 

^  Compare,  for  instance,  the  two  following  passages  in  Hume's  Inquiry 
concerning  the  Principles  of  Morals.  "The  epithets  sociable,  good- 
natured,  humane,  merciful,  grateful,  friendly,  generous,  beneficent,  or 
their  equivalents,  are  known  in  all  languages,  and  universally  express  the 
highest  merit  which  human  nature  is  capable  of  attaining." — Section  II., 
Part  1.  "  Temperance,  sobriety,  patience,  constancy,  perseverance,  fore- 
thought, considerateness,  secrecy,  order,  insinuation,  address,  presence  of 
mind,  quickness  of  conception,  facility  of  expression :  these,  and  a 
thousand  more  of  the  same  kind,  no  man  will  ever  deny  to  be  excellencies 
and  perfections  " — Section  VI.,  Part  1. 


INFLUENCE  OF  HIS  WRITINGS.  165 


constitution  of  human  nature  rather  than  to  the  arbitrary  will 
of  God.  What  was  then  thought  a  defect  would  now  be  almost 
universally  regarded  as  an  excellency.  Indeed,  if  right  and 
wrong  are  simply  constituted  by  the  arbitrary  fiat  of  the 
Supreme  Being,  it  is  difficult  to  see  why  morals  should  be 
treated  as  an  independent  science,  and  not  merely  as  a  subor- 
dinate branch  of  theology.  And  yet  the  view  against  which 
Shaftesbury  protests  had  recently  received  the  sanction  of 
Locke,  and  was  probably  at  this  time  the  one  generally 
accepted  in  Protestant  countries,*  not  only  amongst  the  vulgar 
but  even  in  cultivated  and  reflective  circles.  Grotius  and 
Hobbes,  Cudworth  and  Clarke,  had  already  assumed  a  bolder 
ground,  and  endeavoured  to  constitute  Ethics  as  a  separate 
science,  though  the  work  of  Cudworth  on  Eternal  and  Immu- 
table Morality,  in  which  the  popular  view  is  so  conclusively 
refuted,  had  not  yet  been  published.  Butler  lent  the  great 
weight  of  his  authority  to  the  same  side,^  and,  though  the 
opposite  opinion  long  maintained  its  ground,  especially  among 
what  may  be  called  the  theological  utilitarians,  it,  in  its  turn, 
has  now  come  to  be  looked  upon  as  exceptional,  if  not  unten- 
able. When  it  is  said  that  Shaftesbury  treated  Morals  inde- 
pendently of  Theology,  it  must  be  remembered,  however,  that 
he  fully  recognized  the  reality  of  theological  sanctions,  and 
especially  of  the  higher  theological  sanction,  which  consists  in 
the  love  and  veneration  of  a  Being  who  is  Himself  ideally 
good.  But  the  character  of  the  sanctions  by  which  morality  is 
imposed  and  the  ultimate  grounds  of  moral  distinctions  are,  as 
I  have  already  shown,  distinct  questions. 

^  That  this  is  not  the  doctrine  of  the  Catholic  Church  is  ar^^ued  with 
great  force  by  Mr.  W.  G.  Ward,  in  his  "  Nature  and  Grace,"  Book  I. 
Ch.  1,  Sects.  3,  4. 

5  See  a  note  in  Butler's  Analogy,  Part  I.,  Ch.  6.  The  same  view  is 
implied  throughout  the  Sermons. 


SHAFTESBURY, 


In  the  expression  "  Moral  Sense/^  Shaftesbury  contributed 
a  new  phrase  to  the  English  language.  Though  used 
sparingly  by  him,  it  was  employed  by  Hutcheson  almost 
invariably,  whenever  he  had  occasion  to  speak  of  the  moral 
faculty,  and  thus  it  gradually  found  its  way  into  ordinary 
writings  and  conversation.^  Coalescing  with  what  had  long 
been  taught  by  divines  on  the  absolute  and  semi-mystical 
attributes  of  conscience/  the  metaphor  implied  in  this  term 
unfortunately  tended  to  obscure  the  fact  that  our  moral  judg- 
ments often  require  to  be  preceded  by  long  and  careful  pro- 
cesses of  ratiocination.  Thus  the  idea  gained  ground,  and 
seemed  to  receive  a  philosophical  sanction,  that  a  man  can  at 
once  and  without  reflection  determine  on  the  right  course  of 
action  for  himself,  or  pronounce  a  valid  opinion  on  the  moral 
character  of  the  acts  of  himself  or  others.  Hume,^  by  his 
more  careful  analysis  of  the  process  of  moral  approbation,  did 
much  to  dissipate  this  error  among  those  who  made  a  special 
study  of  ethical  questions,  but  it  still  held  its  place,  and  to 
some  extent,  notwithstanding  the  rude  assaults  of  Paley  and 
Bentham,  even  now  holds  its  place,  in  vulgar  opinion.  The 
language  of  Butler,  however,  on  this  subject  is  still  more 
unguarded  than  that  of  Shaftesbury  and  Hutcheson,  and, 
being  also  the  most  widely-read  writer  of  the  three,  1  think 
it  is  to  him  more  than  to  any  other  philosophical  moralist 
that  we  must  ascribe  the  encouragement  which  men  have 
received  from  their  ethical  guides  to  form  hasty  decisions  and 

^  Adam  Smith,  in  his  Theory  of  Moral  Sentiments  (1759),  says  that 
"  the  word  moral  sense  cannot  yet  be  considered  as  making  part  of  the 
English  tongue. 

^  For  an  excellent  protest  against  the  exaggerated  and  mischievous 
language  often  used  on  this  subject,  see  two  Sermons  by  Dr.  South,  on 
"The  Nature  and  Measures  of  Conscience." 

^  See  Enquiry  concerning  the  Principles  of  Morals,  Section  I.,  and 
Appendix  I. 


INFLUENCE  OF  HIS  WRITINGS.  167 


express  hasty  judgments  on  matters  of  moral  conduct.  How 
far  Butler's  account  of  Conscience  is  simply  an  attempt  to 
throw  into  philosophical  language  the  traditional  teaching  of 
theologians,  and  how  far  it  was  suggested  by  Shaftesbury's 
theory  of  the  Moral  Sense/'  is  not  easy  to  determine.  That 
both  influences  are  represented  in  his  Sermons,  there  can  be  little 
doubt.  In  concluding  this  chapter,  I  need  only  remind  the 
reader  that  the  position  of  Shaftesbury,  and  of  what  has  been 
called  the  "Moral-Sense  school/'  on  this  point,  has  been 
already  ascertained  and  criticized  in  my  third  chapter.  It 
is  not  necessary  that  I  should  here  pursue  the  subject  any 
further,  especially  as  it  will  come  before  us  again  in  the 
account  of  Hutcheson. 


HUTCHESON 


CHAPTER  1. 

LIFE  AND  WORKS. 

FnANCis  HuTCHESON  was  born  on  the  Sth  of  August,  1694. 
His  father,  John  Hutcheson,  was  Presbyterian  Minister  of 
Armagh,  and  lived  at  Ballyrea,  near  that  city.  His  grand- 
father, Alexander  Hutcbeson,  was  also  a  Presbyterian  Minister, 
his  charge  being  Saintfield  in  the  county  of  Down.  At 
Drumalig,  a  township  in  the  parish  of  Saintfield,  his  grand- 
father's residence,  Francis  Hutcheson  was  probably  born.^ 
The  grandfather  had  come  over  from  Scotland,  being,  as 
Dr.  Leechman  tells  us,  ''of  an  ancient  and  respectable  family 
in  the  shire  of  Ayr  in  that  kingdom/-*  Thus  the  family  of 
Hutchesons,  like  so  many  other  families  in  the  North  of 
Ireland,  was  of  Scottish  descent. 

Francis,  who  seems  to  have  been  distinguished,  as  a  child, 
for  the  sweetness  of  his  disposition  and  his  capacity  for  learn- 
ing, was  a  great  favourite  with  his  grandfather.    It  is  said 

*  I  am  indebted  for  information  as  to  the  place  of  Hutcheson's  birth, 
as  well  as  for  some  particulars  regarding  his  family  and  early  history,  to 
the  Kev.  George  Hill,  late  Librarian  of  Queen's  College,  Belfast,  who  has 
kindly  sent  me  various  extracts  from  the  Belfast  Monthly  Magazine  of 
August,  1813. 


170 


HUTCHESON. 


that,  at  a  later  period,  when  his  grandfather  wished  to  alter  a 
prior  settlement  of  his  property  in  the  young  man^s  favour,  he 
peremptorily  refused,  though  many  arguments  were  used  by  his 
relations  to  prevail  with  him  to  accept  the  advantage.  He  and 
his  brother  Hans  lived  mostly  with  their  father  in  Ballyrea  till 
the  year  1702,  when  they  were  sent  to  reside  permanently  with 
their  grandfather,  for  the  benefit  of  their  education.  Accord- 
ing to  the  Belfast  Magazine,  the  best  classical  school  in  the 
neighbourhood  was  one  kept  by  a  Mr.  Hamilton  in  the  old 
Meeting-house  of  Saintfield.  Here  the  two  brothers  remained, 
till  Francis,  at  least,  was  moved  to  an  Academy  (where 
situated  Dr.  Leechman,  who  is  here  our  informant,  does  not 
tell  us)  to  begin  his  course  of  Philosophy.  He  was  "there 
taught  the  ordinary  Scholastic  Philosophy  which  was  in  vogue 
in  those  days,  and  applied  himself  to  it  with  uncommon 
assiduity  and  diligence.^''  In  the  year  1710,  at  the  age  of 
sixteen,  he  entered  the  university  of  Glasgow,  where  he  spent 
the  next  six  years  of  his  life,  at  first  in  the  study  of  j^hilo- 
sophy,  classics,  and  general  literature,  and  afterwards  in  the 
study  of  theology.  It  was  while  here  that  he  read  Dr.  Samuel 
Clarke's  book  on  the  Being  and  Attributes  of  God,  which  had 
been  first  published  a  few  years  before.  The  ob  priori  argu- 
ments employed  in  this  work  did  not  give  him  entire  satis- 
faction, and,  about  the  time  he  was  leaving  the  University, 
he  wrote  a  letter  to  Dr.  Clarke,  urging  his  objections  and 
desiring  further  explanations.  Whether  he  received  any 
answer,  we  are  told,  does  not  appear  from  his  papers;  and 
from  this  fact  we  may  almost  certainly  infer  that  he  did  not. 
Dr.  Clarke,  who  had  then  the  highest  reputation  of  any  man 
in  England  as  a  metaphysical  theologian,  was  probably  paying 
the  penalty  of  eminence  by  being  exposed  to  an  inconvenient 
number  of  queries  and  objections  from  various  philosophical 
and  theological  students.    Bishop  Butler,  who  was  at  that 


LIFE  AND  WORKS, 


171 


time  a  stadent  at  a  dissenting  academy  at  Tewkesbury,  he  had 
goodnaturedly  answered  in  the  years  1713  and  1714,  and 
the  correspondence  was  pubhshed  in  1716,  under  the  title  of 
Several  letters  to  Br,  Clarke  from  a  gentleman  in  Gloucester- 
shire,  with  the  Doctor's  answers  thereunto.  A  few  years  before, 
in  1710,  he  had  been  less  courteous  to  Berkeley,  and  declined 
altogether  to  enter  into  any  correspondence  with  him  on  his 
new  theory  of  Matter.^  Hutcheson  always  remained  doubtful, 
his  biographer  tells  us,  of  the  expediency  of  presenting  to  the 
bulk  of  mankind  metaphysical  arguments  for  the  purpose  of 
demonstrating  the  existence,  unity,  and  perfections  of  the 
Deity,  nor  was  he  himself  convinced  of  their  soundness. 
Accordingly,  in  his  own  work  on  metaphysics,  when  he  comes 
to  the  question  of  the  existence  of  a  God,  we  find  him,  like 
Shaftesbury,  resting  the  proof  almost  entirely  on  the  indica- 
tions of  a  Deity  afforded  by  the  constitution  of  the  Universe. 

On  quitting  the  university,  Hutcheson  returned  to  the 
north  of  Ireland,  received  a  licence  to  preach,  and  was  just  on 
the  point  of  settling  down  as  the  minister  of  a  small  presby- 
terian  congregation,  when  it  was  suggested  to  him  by  some 
gentlemen  living  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Dublin  to  start  a 
private  academy  in  that  city.  In  this  occupation  he  seems 
to  have  been  eminently  successful.  At  Dubhn  his  literary 
accom])lishments  soon  made  him  generally  known,  and  he 
appears  (0  have  rapidly  formed  the  acquaintance  of  the  more 
notable  persons,  lay  and  ecclesiastical,  who  then  resided  in  the 
metropolis  of  Ireland,  Among  these  are  specially  to  be  noted 
Lord  Molesworth,  already  known  to  the  reader  as  the  friend 

2  See  Eraser's  Berkeley  in  Blackwood's  Series  of  PJiilosopJiical 
Classics,  Pt.  I.,  ch.  5.  The  correspondence  between  Berkeley  and  Sir  John 
Perciva],  from  which  I  have  derived  the  information  given  in  the  text, 
has  been  recently  brought  to  light  by  Professor  Fraser,  and  is  an  im- 
portant contribution  to  Berkeley's  biography. 


172 


HUTCHESON, 


and  correspondent  of  Shaftesbury,  who  assisted  him  with 
advice  and  criticism  in  his  aesthetic  and  philosophical  inquiries, 
and  Archbishop  King,  author  of  the  well-known  work  De 
Origine  Mali,  who,  to  his  great  honour,  steadily  resisted  all 
attempts  to  prosecute  Hutcheson  in  the  archbishop's  court  for 
keeping  a  school  without  having  previously  subscribed  to  the 
ecclesiastical  canons  and  obtained  the  episcopal  licence. 
When  the  two  first  Essays  were  published,  Lord  Carteret,  after- 
wards Lord  Granville,  was  Lord  Lieutenant  of  Ireland.  He 
was  so  struck  with  their  merits  that  he  took  pains  to  find  out 
the  author,  and  afterwards  invariably  treated  him  with 
the  most  distinguishing  marks  of  familiarity  and  esteem. 
Another  friend  was  Dr.  Synge,  afterwards  Bishop  of  Elphin, 
who  assisted  him  to  revise  his  papers.  Hutcheson's  relations 
with  the  clergy  of  the  Established  Church,  especially  with  the 
archbishops  of  Armagh  and  Dublin,  Boulter  and  King,  seem 
to  have  been  of  the  most  cordial  description ;  and  "  the  incli- 
nation of  his  friends  to  serve  him,  the  schemes  proposed  to 
him  for  obtaining  promotion,^'  &c.,  of  which  his  biographer 
speaks,  probably  refer  to  some  offers  of  preferment,  on  con- 
dition of  his  accepting  episcopal  ordination.  These  offers, 
however,  of  whatever  nature  they  might  be,  were  unavailing ; 

neither  the  love  of  riches  nor  of  the  elegance  and  grandeur 
of  human  life  prevailed  so  far  in  his  breast  as  to  make  him 
offer  the  least  violence  to  his  inward  sentiments.''^ 

While  residing  in  Dublin,  Hutcheson  published  anony- 
mously the  four  essays  by  which  he  still  remains  best  known, 
namely,  the  Inqidry  concerning  Beauty,  Order,  Harmony, 
Design,  and  the  Inquiry  concerning  Moral  Good  and  Evil,  in 
1725,  and  the  Essay  on  the  Nature  and  Conduct  of  the  Passions 
and  Affections,  and  Illustrations  upon  the  Moral  Sense,  in  1728. 
The  original  title  of  the  former  work  (which  reached  a  second 
edition  in  the  next  year)  was — An  Inquiry  into  the  Original 


LIFE  AND  WORKS, 


173 


of  our  Ideas  of  Beauty  and  Virtue  in  two  Treatises^  in  which 
the  Principles  of  the  late  Earl  of  Shaftesbury  are  explained 
and  defended  against  the  Author  of  the  Fahle  of  the  Bees  ;  and 
the  Ideas  of  Moral  Good  and  Evil  are  established,  according  to 
the  Sentiments  of  the  Ancient  Moralists j  with  an  attempt  to 
introduce  a  Matheniatical  Calculation  on  subjects  of  Morality. 
The  alterations  and  additions  made  in  the  second  edition  of 
these  Essays  were  published  in  a  separate  form  in  1726.  To 
the  period  of  his  Dublin  residence  are  also  to  be  referred  the 
"Thoughts  on  Laughter''^  (a  criticism  of  Hobbes)  and  the 
"  Observations  on  the  Fable  of  the  Becs/^  being  in  all  six 
letters  contributed  to  Hibernicus'  Letters,  a  periodical  which 
appeared  in  Dublin,  1725-27  (2d  ed.,  1734).  At  the  end  of 
the  same  period  occurred  the  controversy  in  the  columns  of 
the  London  Journal  with  Mr.  Gilbert  Burnet  (probably  the 
second  son  of  Dr.  Gilbert  Burnet,  bishop  of  Salisbury),  on 
the  **True  Foundation  of  Virtue  or  Moral  Goodness.^'  All 
these  letters  were  collected  in  one  volume,  and  published  by 
Foulis,  Glasgow,  1772. 

Of  the  admirable  little  treatise  on  Laughter,  as  I  shall 
have  no  opportunity  of  recurring  to  it,  I  shall  here  offer  a 
brief  account.  Hobbes  had  maintained  that  Laughter,  like 
all  other  emotions,  has  its  roots  in  selfishness.  "  Sudden 
glory  is  the  passion  which  maketh  those  grimaces  called 
Laughter ;  and  it  is  caused  either  by  some  sudden  act  of 
their  own,  that  pleaseth  them,  or  by  the  apprehension  of  some 
deformed  thing  in  another,  by  comparison  whereof  they  sud- 
denly applaud  themselves.  And  it  is  incident  most  to  those 
that  are  conscious  of  the  fewest  abilities  in  themselves;  who 
are  forced  to  keep  themselves  in  their  own  favour  by  observing 
the  imperfections  of  other  men.''  ^    "  If,"  says  Hutcheson, 

'  Leviathauy  Pt.  I.  ch.  6.  Of  Human  Nature,  ch.  9.  "  The  passion 
of  laughter  is  nothing  else  but  sudden  glory  arising  from  some  sudden 


174 


HUTCHESON. 


"  Mr.  Hobbes'  opinion  be  just/'  tlien,  first,  "  there  can  be  no 
laughter  on  any  occasion  where  we  notice  no  comparison  of 
ourselves  to  others,  or  of  our  present  state  to  a  worse  state,  or 
where  we  do  not  observe  some  superiority  of  ourselves  above 
some  other  thing ;  and,  again,  it  must  follow  that  every 
sudden  appearance  of  superiority  over  another  must  excite 
laughter^  when  we  attend  to  it/'  He  then  proceeds,  by  a 
number  of  examples,  to  show  that  both  these  consequences, 
and,  therefore,  the  supposition  on  which  they  are  based,  are 
false.  Thus,  in  the  case  of  parody  and  burlesque  allusion, 
which  so  frequently  occasion  laughter,  there  is  often  the 
highest  feeling  of  veneration  for  the  words  or  acts  parodied 
or  alluded  to.  Humorous  applications  of  texts  of  Scripture 
are  often  quite  as  much  enjoyed  by  orthodox  and  pious  people 
as  by  unbelievers.  As  regards  the  second  consequence,  if  it 
be  true,  it  must  be  a  very  merry  state  in  which  a  fine  gen- 
tleman is,  when  well  dressed,  in  his  coach,  he  passes  our 
streets,  where  he  will  see  so  many  ragged  beggars,  and 
porters  and  chairmen  sweating  at  their  labour,  on  every  side 
of  him.  It  is  a  great  pity  that  we  had  not  an  infirmary  or 
lazar-house  to  retire  to  in  cloudy  weather,  to  get  an  afternoon 
of  laughter  at  these  inferior  objects.""  Hobbes  might  have 
replied  to  this  latter  argument  by  saying  that  the  sense  of 
the  ludicrous  is,  in  this  instance,  overpowered  by  what  is  at 
the  moment  a  much  stronger  feeling,  the  feeling  of  pity. 
There  can  be  no  question,  however,  that  Hutcheson  is  right 
in  his  main  contention,  and  that  the  reflection  on  our  own 
superiority,  whether  to  others  or  to  our  past  selves,  is  by  no 
means  an  invariable,  or  even  a  very  frequent,  accompaniment 
of  laughter. 

conception  of  some  eminency  in  ourselves,  by  comparison  with  the  in- 
firmity of  others  or  with  our  own  formerly ;  for  men  laugh  at  the  follies 
of  themselves  past,  when  they  come  suddenly  to  remembrance,  except 
they  bring  with  them  any  present  dishonour." 


LIFE  AND  WORKS, 


Hutcheson's  own  theory  is  that  laughter  arises  on  the 
observation  of  contrast.  "  That  then  which  seems  generally 
the  cause  of  laughter  is  the  bringing  together  of  images 
which  have  contrary  additional  ideas,  as  well  as  some  re- 
semblance in  the  principal  idea ;  this  contrast  between  ideas 
of  grandeur,  dignity,  sanctity,  perfection,  and  ideas  of  mean- 
ness, baseness,  profanity,  seems  to  be  the  very  spirit  of  bur- 
lesque, and  the  greatest  part  of  our  raillery  and  jest  are 
founded  upon  it.  We  find  ourselves  also  moved  to  laughter 
by  an  overstraining  of  wit,  by  bringing  resemblances  from 
subjects  of  a  quite  different  kind  from  the  subject  to  which 
they  are  compared.  When  we  see,  instead  ot  the  easiness 
and  natural  resemblance  which  constitutes  true  wit,  a  forced 
straining  of  a  likeness,  our  laugliter  is  apt  to  arise  ;  as  also, 
when  the  only  resemblance  is  not  in  the  idea  but  in  the 
sound  ot  the  words.  And  this  is  the  matter  of  laughter  in 
the  pun.^^ 

Setting  aside  purely  physical  causes  of  laughter,  such  as 
tickling  and  hysteria,  and  also  the  spontaneous  laughter, 
which  is  one  of  the  outlets  of  over-excited  emotion,  as,  for 
instance,  of  sudden  joy  or  of  exuberant  animal  spirits,  it  may 
be  maintained  that  the  perception  of  contrast,  in  some  form 
or  other,  is  an  invariable  condition  of  laughter.  As  Mr.  Rain* 
has  pointed  out,  there  are,  however,  many  kinds  of  contrast 
or  incongruity  which  do  not  excite  laughter;  such,  for  in- 
stance, as  a  decrepit  man  under  a  heavy  burden,  an  instrument 
out  of  tune,  a  corpse  at  a  banquet,  a  falsehood,  parental  cruelty, 
filial  ingratitude.  What,  then,  are  the  kinds  of  incongruity 
which  provoke  laughter  ?  I  should  be  inclined  to  arrange 
them  under  two  heads :  the  ludicrous,  properly  so  called,  and 
the  mere  frustration  of  expectation  or,  in  other  words,  the 
occurrence  of  the  unexpected.     Mr.  Bain  maintains  that 

Bain  on  The  Emotions  and  the  Will.    The  Emotions,  ch.  14. 


iy6 


HUTCHESON, 


"  the  occasion  of  the  Ludicrous  is  the  degradation  of  some 
person  or  interest  possessing  dignity,  in  circumstances  that 
excite  no  other  strong  emotion/'  And  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer, 
in  his  very  interesting  article  on  the  Physiology  of  Laughter 
[Macmillan's  Magazine^  March  1860 ;  reprinted  in  Assays, 
vol.  i.),  says,  ^'Laughter  naturally  results  only  when  con- 
sciousness is  unawares  transferred  from  great  things  to  small — 
ouly  when  there  is  what  we  may  call  a  descending  incongruity.'^ 
While  admitting  these  as  adequate  accounts  of  the  sentiment 
which  we  strictly  designate  as  a  sense  of  the  ludicrous,  it 
seems  to  me  that  the  contrast  involved  in  mere  surprise,  or,  as 
I  have  called  it,  the  frustration  of  expectation  or  the  occurrence 
of  the  unexpected,  is  often  an  occasion  of  laughter.  Thus  we 
often  laugh,  when  an  unexpected  turn  is  given  to  a  word  or 
sentence,  even  though  it  suffers  no  degradation  in  the  change. 
And  sometimes,  when  a  player  is  suddenly  and  expectedly 
beaten  in  a  game  of  chance,  or  even  when  there  is  an  extra- 
ordinary run  of  luck,  the  bystanders  will  burst  into  uproarious 
merriment,  directed  not  so  much  at  the  discomfiture  of  the 
loser  as  at  the  strangeness  of  the  event.  Again,  we  all  know 
how  children  laugh  at  the  game  of  "  hide  and  seek,''  and  how 
even  grown-up  people  will  laugh,  when  they  discover  that 
they  have  been  playing,"  as  the  phrase  goes,  "  at  cross- 
purposes."  Of  course,  the  surprise  must  never  be  such  as 
to  evoke  disagreeable  feelings,  but  it  appears  to  me  that, 
when  this  is  not  the  case,  the  mere  surprise  occasioned  by  a 
striking  contrast,  without  any  descent  from  great  things  to 
small,  is,  in  many  temperaments,  quite  sufficient  to  elicit 
laughter. 

The  use  of  Ridicule  is  stated  by  Hutcheson  with  great 
felicity.  ^^When  any  object,  either  good  or  evil,  is  aggra- 
vated and  increased  by  the  violence  of  our  passions,  or  an 
enthusiastic  admiration,  or  fear,  the  application  of  ridicule  is 


LIFE  AND  WORKS. 


177 


the  readiest  way  to  bring*  down  our  liig-h  imag-inations  to  a 
conformity  with  the  real  moment  or  importance  of  the  affair. 
Ridicule  gives  our  minds,  as  it  were,  a  bend  to  the  contrary 
side ;  so  that,  upon  reflection,  they  may  be  more  capable  of 
settling"  in  a  just  conformity  with  nature/^ 

The  main  motive  of  the  letters  on  Laughter  is  to  show  the 
insufficiency  of  Hobbes^  ethical  theory  to  account  for  the 
obvious  facts  of  human  nature. 

In  1729  Hutcheson  was  elected,  without  any  solicitation, 
we  are  told,  on  his  part,  as  the  successor  of  his  old  master, 
Gerschom  Carmichael,  to  the  chair  of  moral  philosophy  in 
the  University  of  Glasgow.  It  is  curious  that  up  to  this 
time  both  his  essays  and  letters  had  all  been  published  anony- 
mously, though  their  authorship  appears  to  have  been  perfectly 
well  known.  In  1730  he  entered  on  the  duties  of  his  office, 
delivering  an  inaugural  lecture  (afterwards  published).  Be 
Naturali  Hominum  SociaUtaie.  The  prospect  of  being  de- 
livered from  the  miscellaneous  drudgery  of  school  work,  and 
of  securing  increased  leisure  for  the  pursuit  of  his  favourite 
studies,  occasions  an  almost  boisterous  outburst  of  joy  : — 
"  laboriosissimis,  mihi,  atque  m.olestissimis  negotiis  implicito, 
exigua  admodum  erant  ad  bonas  litcras  cut  mentem  colendam 
otia ;  non  levi  igitur  Isetitia  commovebar  cum  almam  matrem 
Academiam  me,  suum  olim  alumnum,  in  libertatem  asseruisse 
audiveram .''^  And  yet  the  works  on  which  Hutcheson^s 
reputation  was  to  rest  had  already  been  published. 

The  rest  of  Hutcheson's  life  was  mainly  spent  in  the 
assiduous  performance  of  the  duties  of  his  professorship, 
including,  of  course,  the  preparation  of  lectures  for  his 
classes.  Five  days  a  week  he  lectured  on  Natural  Religion, 
Morals,  Jurisprudence,  and  Government.  Three  days  a  week 
he  lectured  on  the  Greek  and  Latin  Moralists.  On  Sunday 
evenings  he  lectured  on  the  evidences  and  distinctive  tenets 

N 


i;8 


HUTCHESON. 


of  Christianity,  "taking  his  views  of  its  doctrines/'  we  are 
told,  "  from  the  original  records  of  the  New  Testament,  and 
not  from  the  party-tenets  or  scholastic  systems  of  modern 
ages/'  This  was  the  most  crowded  of  his  lectures,  being 
attended  by  students  indifferently  from  every  faculty.  His 
reputation  as  a  teacher  attracted  many  young  men,  belonging 
to  dissenting  families,  from  England  and  Ireland,  and  he 
appears  to  have  enjoyed  a  well-deserved  popularity  among 
both  his  pupils  and  his  colleagues.  One  of  his  pupils,  it  may 
be  mentioned,  was  Adam  Smith,  who  subsequently  occupied 
the  same  chair.  As  a  lecturer,  Hutcheson  had  a  persuasive 
manner,  and  drew  from  a  fund  of  natural  eloquence,  which, 
together  with  his  stores  of  knowledge,  rendered  him  one  of 
the  most  masterly  and  engaging  teachers  of  his  generation.* 
Though'  the  subjects  of  his  lectures  were,  in  the  main,  the 
same  every  season,  students  would  often  attend  them  for  four, 
five,  or  six  years  together.  Then  he  had  that  indispensable 
qualification  of  a  successful  teacher,  that  intercourse  with 
young  men  was  a  delight  rather  than  a  trouble  to  him.  In 
conversation,  he  displayed  great  skill,  and  discovered  such  a 
readiness  of  thought,  clearness  of  expression,  and  extent  of 
knowledge,  on  almost  every  subject  that  could  be  started,  as 

*  Dugald  Stewart,  in  his  Account  of  the  Life  and  Writings  of  Adam 
Smith,  says  that  Hutcheson's  talents,  as  a  public  speaker,  must  have 
been  of  a  far  higher  order  than  those  which  he  displayed  as  a  writer; 
"  all  his  pupils  whom  I  have  happened  to  meet  with  (some  of  them, 
certain!}',  very  competent  judges)  having  agreed  exactly  with  each  other 
in  their  accounts  of  the  extraordinary  impression  whi.-h  they  made  on  the 
minis  of  his  hearers."  After  expressing  his  decided  preference  for  the 
Assays  over  the  posthumous  woik,  Stewart  adds :  "  His  great  and 
deserved  fame,  however,  rests  now  chiefly  on  the  traditionary  history  of 
his  academical  lectures,  which  appear  to  have  contributed  very  powerfully 
to  diffuse,  in  Scotland,  that  taste  for  analytical  discussion,  and  that  spirit 
of  liberal  inquiry,  to  which  the  world  is  indebted  for  some  of  the  most 
valuable  productions  of  the  eighteenth  century.'* 


LIFE  AND  WORKS. 


179 


gave  delight  to  all  who  heard  him.  A  remarkable  vivacity 
of  thought  and  expression,  a  perpetual  flow  of  cheerfulness 
and  good- will,  and  a  visible  air  of  inward  happiness^  made 
him  the  life  and  genius  of  society,  and  spread  an  enlivening 
influence  everywhere  around  him.  He  was  gay  and  pleasant, 
full  of  mirth  and  raillery,  familiar  and  communicative  to  the 
last  degree,  and  utterly  free  from  all  stateliness  or  affectation." 
To  the  poorer  students  he  was  always  open-handed,  assisting 
them  with  money  or  opening  his  lectures  to  them  without  fees. 
Though  somewhat  quick-tempered,  he  was  remarkable  for  his 
warm  feelings  and  generous  impulses.  "  He  was  all  bene- 
volence and  affection,"  says  Dr.  Leechman  ;  none  who  saw 
him  could  doubt  of  it ;  his  air  and  countenance  bespoke  it. 
It  was  to  such  a  degree  his  prevailing  temper  that  it  gave  a 
tincture  to  his  writings,  which  were  perhaps  as  much  dictated 
by  his  heart  as  his  head ;  and  if  there  was  any  need  of  an 
apology  for  the  stress  that  in  his  scheme  seems  to  ])e  laid 
upon  the  friendly  and  public  affections,  the  prevalence  of 
them  in  his  own  temper  would  at  least  form  an  amiable  one." 

Hutcheson^s  studies  appear  to  have  ranged  over  a  wide 
field.  They  included,  besides  the  subjects  peculiar  to  his 
chair,  the  Latin  and  Greek  Classics,  Hebrew,  Theology, 
Natural  Philosophy  and  Mathematics,  Civil  and  Ecclesiastical 
History,  the  history  of  the  arts  and  sciences.  The  study  of 
Greek,  which  had  fallen  into  great  neglect,  was  revived  in 
Glasgow  mainly  through  his  influence.  In  those  days,  when 
the  accumulation  of  books  on  any  one  subject  was  compara- 
tively small,  and  simpler  social  habits  left  to  studious  men 
more  leisure  than  they  are  now  usually  fortunate  enough  to 
obtain,  this  union  of  excellence  in  a  variety  of  subjects  was 
by  no  means  rare.  The  cases  of  Descartes,  Leibnitz,  and 
Newton  will  at  once  occur  to  the  reader  as  striking  illus- 
trations of  this  fact. 

N  2 


i8o 


HUTCHESON, 


The  disinterestedness  which  Hutcheson  displayed  in  all 
that  concerned  his  own  fortunes  is  shown  by  his  declining'  an 
offer  of  the  Professorship  of  Moral  Philosophy  at  Edinburgh. 
Not  only  was  this  a  more  lucrative  appointment  than  the  one 
which  he  held,  but  he  would  have  had  the  advantages  which 
attend  residence  in  a  capital  and  the  opportunity  of  entering 
a  much  more  distinguished  circle  of  acquaintances  than  was 
open  to  him  in  Glasgow.  He  was  content,  however,  with  his 
position  and  surroundings,  and  remained  where  he  was,  in  the 
quiet  discharge  of  his  duties,  till  his  death  in  1746.  When 
he  died,  Hutcheson  was  in  his  fifty-third  year.  He  had 
hitherto,  with  the  exception  of  occasional  attacks  of  gout, 
enjoyed  excellent  health,  but  was  carried  off  prematurely  by 
a  fever.  Soon  after  his  settlement  in  Dublin,  he  married  a 
Miss  Wilson,  daughter  of  a  gentleman  of  fortune  and  position. 
He  left  one  son.  Dr.  Francis  Hutcheson,  who  followed  the 
medical  profession.  "  If  any  one,"  says  his  biographer, 
"  should  wish  to  know  anything  about  Dr.  Hutcheson's 
external  form,  it  may  be  said  it  was  an  image  of  his  mind. 
A  stature  above  middle  size,  a  gesture  and  manner  negligent 
and  easy,  but  decent  and  manly,  gave  a  dignity  to  his  appear- 
ance. His  complexion  was  fair  and  sanguine,  and  his  features 
regular.  His  countenance  and  look  bespoke  sense,  spirit, 
kindness,  and  joy  of  heart.  His  whole  person  and  manner 
raised  a  strong  prejudice  in  his  favour  at  first  sight."  Not- 
withstanding, however,  all  these  advantages  of  person,  dis- 
position, address,  and  acquirements,  he  was  not  without  his 
detractors.  Theological  party* spirit,  at  that  time,  ran  high 
in  Scotland,  and  the  known  liberality  of  his  religious  views, 
and  his  zeal  for  civil  and  religious  freedom,  caused  him  to  be 
looked  upon  with  a  certain  amount  of  suspicion  and  disfavour. 
It  is  implied  by  his  biographer  that  he  made,  no  attempt  to 
disarm  hostility,  either  by  any  reserve  in  communicating  his 


LIFE  AND  WORKS. 


i8i 


opinions  or  by  studying  moderation  in  the  expression  of 
them ;  in  other  words,  that  he  had  the  courage  of  his  con- 
victions. 

In  addition  to  the  works  already  named,  the  following  were 
published  during  Huteheson's  lifetime  : — a  pamphlet  entitled 
Considerations  on  Patronages,  addressed  to  the  Gentlemen  of 
Scotland,  1735;  P hilo sop Ji ice  Mor alls  Institutio  Compeudiaria, 
Ethices  et  Jurisprudentia  Ncturalis  Elementa  conthiens.  Lib. 
III.,  Glasgow,  Foulis,  1742  ;  MetaphysicdR  Synopsis  Ontologiam 
et  Pneumatologiani  complectenSy  Glasgow,  Foulis,  1743.  The 
last  work  was  published  anonymously.  The  pamphlet  on 
Patronages  is  directed  against  the  patronages  vested  in  the 
Crown  and  private  patrons,  as  restored  by  the  Act  of  1711, 
and  advocates  the  restitution  of  ecclesiastical  appointments  to 
the  heritors  and  elders,  on  the  ground  that  they  represent  the 
feelings  and  opinions  of  the  more  influential  parishioners. 

After  his  death,  his  son,  Francis  Hutcheson,  M.D.,  pub- 
lished in  two  volumes,  quarto,  what  is  much  the  longest, 
though  by  no  means  the  most  interesting,  of  his  works,  A 
System  of  Moral  Philosopliy,  in  Three  Books,  London,  1755. 
To  this  is  prefixed  a  life  of  the  author,  by  Dr.  William 
Leechman,  professor  of  divinity  in  the  university  of 
Glasgow.  The  only  remaining  work  that  we  are  able  to 
assign  to  Hutcheson  is  a  small  treatise  on  Logic,  which, 
according  to  his  biographer,  was  "  not  designed  for  the  public 
eye,"  but  which  was  published  by  Foulis  at  Glasgow  in 
1764.  This  compendium,  together  with  the  Compendium  of 
Metaphysics,  was  republished  at  Strasburg  in  1772. 

Of  all  these  writings,  however,  those  alone  on  which 
Huteheson's  philosophical  reputation  rests  are  the  four  essays, 
and  perhaps  the  letters,  all  published  during  his  residence  in 
Dublin.  To  the  more  distinctive  features  of  his  philosophical 
system,  so  far  as  they  may  be  gathered  from  these  and  his 


l82 


HUTCHESON, 


other  works^  I  shall  proceed  to  draw  attention  in  the  two 
next  chapters. 

The  original  editions  of  Hutcheson's  various  works  have 
been  already  mentioned.  Several  additions  and  alterations 
were  made  in  the  second  edition  (1726)  of  the  Inquiry  into 
the  Original  of  ottr  Ideas  of  Beauty  and  Virtue.  This^  as 
well  as  most  of  his  other  works_,  passed  through  various 
editions.  Of  the  System  of  Moral  Philosophy ,  however, 
published  after  Hutcheson^s  death,  there  is,  I  believe,  one 
edition  only.  Notices  of  Hutcheson  occur  in  most  histories, 
both  of  philosophy  generally  and  of  moral  philosophy  in 
particular,  as,  for  instance,  in  part  vii.  of  Adam  Smithes 
Theory  of  Moral  Sentiments  ;  Mackintoshes  Progress  of  Ethical 
Philosophy  ;  Cousin,  Cou7's  d'Histoire  de  la  Philosophie  Morale 
du  XVIIIieme  Siecle ;  WhewelFs  Lectures  on  the  History  of 
Moral  Philosophy  in  England;  Bain^'s  Mental  and  Moral 
Science ;  Dr.  Noah  Porter's  Appendix  to  the  English  trans- 
lation of  Uebervveg's  History  of  Philosophy ;  Mr.  Leslie 
Stephen's  History  of  English  Thought  in  the  Eighteenth  Century ^ 
&c.  Of  Dr.  Leechman's  Biography  of  Hutcheson  I  have 
already  spoken.  Professor  Veitch  gives  an  interesting 
account  of  his  professorial  work  in  Glasgow,  Mind^  Vol.  ii. 
pp.  209—211. 


133 


CHAPTER  II. 

hutcheson's  ethical  theory. 

In  the  publication  of  the  first  two  essays,  Hutcheson  acted 
quite  rightly  in  connecting"  his  name  on  the  title-page  with 
that  of  Shaftesbury.  There  are  no  two  names,  perhaps,  in 
the  history  of  English  moral  philosophy,  which  stand  in  a 
closer  connexion.  The  analogy  drawn  between  beauty  and 
virtue,  the  functions  assigned  to  the  moral  sense,  the  position 
that  the  benevolent  feelings  form  an  original  and  irreducible 
part  of  our  nature,  and  the  unhesitating  adoption  of  the 
principle  that  the  test  of  virtuous  action  is  its  tendency  to 
promote  the  general  welfare,  or  good  of  the  whole,  are  at 
once  obvious  and  fundamental  points  of  agreement  between 
the  two  authors. 

According  to  Hutcheson,  man  has  a  variety  o£  senses, 
internal  as  well  as  external,  reflex  as  well  as  direct,  the  general 
definition  of  a  sense  being  "  any  determination  of  our  minds 
to  receive  ideas  independently  on  our  will,  and  to  have  per- 
ceptions of  pleasure  and  pain.-"  ^  He  does  not  attempt  to 
give  an  exhaustive  enumeration  of  these  "senses,"  but,  in 
various  parts  of  his  works,  he  specifies,  besides  the  five  external 
senses  commonly  recognized  (which,  he  rightly  hints,  might 
be  added  to)  ^ — (1)  consciousness,  by  which  each  man  has  a 

*  Essay  on  the  Nature  and  Conduct  of  the  Passions,  Sect.  1. 
2  Hutcheson  here  anticipates  a  great  improvement  in  the  classifications 
of  psychology.    To  the  "  Five  Senses,"  commonly  so  called,  recent  psy- 


i84 


HUTCHESON. 


perception  of  himself  and  of  all  that  is  going  on  in  his  own 
mind  f  (2)  the  sense  of  beauty ;  (3)  a  public  sense,  or  sensus 
communis^  a  determination  to  be  pleased  with  the  happiness 
of  others  and  to  be  uneasy  at  their  misery  /'  (4)  the  moral 
sense,  or  "  moral  sense  of  beauty  in  actions  and  affections,  by 
which  we  perceive  virtue  or  vice,  in  ourselves  or  others  ;" 
(5)  a  sense  of  honour,  or  praise  and  blame,  "  which  makes  the 
approbation  or  gratitude  of  others  the  necessary  occasion  of 
pleasure,  and  their  dislike,  condemnation,  or  resentment  of 
injuries  done  hj  us  the  occasion  of  that  uneasy  sensation 
called  shame  (6)  a  sense  of  the  ridiculous.  It  is  plain,  as 
the  author  confesses,  that  there  may  be  "  other  perceptions, 
distinct  from  all  these  classes,^^  and,  in  fact,  there  seems  to  be 
no  limit  to  the  number  of  senses  "  in  which  a  psychological 
division  of  this  kind  might  result.  Thus,  he  makes  veracity 
the  object  of  a  special  sense.  "  In  this  important  matter,  we 
have  very  manifest  indications  of  what  God  requires  of  us,  in 

chologists  add  various  other  physical  or  corporeal  senses,  by  the  action  of 
which  a  great  part  of  our  conscious  life  is  built  up.  By  Mr.  Lewes 
[Problems  of  Life  and  3Iind,  Vol.  i.,  p.  132)  these  are  called  the 
"  Systemic  Senses,  because  distributed  through  the  system  at  large, 
instead  of  being  localized  in  eye,  ear,  tongue,  &c.,"  and  are  classified  as 
the  Nutritive,  Eespiratory,  Generative,  and  Muscular  Senses.  As 
examples  of  the  first,  he  gives  the  feelings  accompanying  secretion, 
excretion,  hunger,  thirst,  &c.  "  The  feelings  of  suflTocption,  oppression, 
lightness,  &c.,  belong  to  the  second.  The  sexual  and  maternal  feelings 
belong  to  the  third;  while  those  of  the  fourth  enter  as  elements  into  all 
the  others."  The  recognition  of  this  last  class,  the  Muscular  Feelings, 
whose  characteristic  is  the  consciousness  of  energy  promoted  or  impaired, 
at  once  introduces  a  wide  difference  between  the  old  psychology  and  the 
new,  and  vastly  adds  to  the  material  at  our  disposal  for  the  construction 
of  a  rational  account  of  the  development  of  our  cognitive  and  sentient 
nature. 

^  "  Sensus  quidam  internus,  aut  conscientia,  cujus  ope  nota  sunt  ea 
omnia,  qnse  in  mente  geruntur ;  hac  animi  vi  se  novit  quisque,  suique 
sensum  habet,"  Metaph.  Syn.,  pars  i.  cap.  2.  This  "  sense  "  is  regarded 
as  a  direct  internal  sense. 


HUTCHESON'S  ETHICAL  THEORY.  185 


the  very  structure  of  our  nature ;  an  immediate  sense  seems  to 
recommend  that  use  of  speech  which  the  common  interest  re- 
quires. In  our  tender  years  we  are  naturally  prone  to  discover 
candidly  all  we  know.  We  have  a  natural  aversion  to  all  false- 
hood and  dissimulation^  until  we  experience  some  inconveniency 
from  this  opennes«;s  of  hearty  which  we  at  first  approve/'* 

Of  these  "  senses  that  which  plays  the  most  important 
part  in  Hutcheson's  ethical  system  is  the  moral  sense.'' 
It  is  this  which  pronounces  immediately  on  the  character 
of  actions  and  affections,  approving  of  those  which  are 
virtuous^  and  disapproving*  of  those  which  are  vicious. 
"  This  moral  sense  f  rom  its  very  nature  appears  to  be  designed 
for  regulating  and  controlling  all  our  powers.  This  dignity 
and  commanding  nature  we  are  immediately  conscious  of,  as 
we  are  conscious  of  the  power  itself.  Nor  can  such* matters 
of  immediate  feeling  be  otherways  proved  but  by  appeals  to 
our  hearts."^  *^  His  principal  design/'  he  says  in  the  preface 
to  the  two  first  treatises,  is  to  show  that  human  nature  was 
not  left  quite  indifferent  in  the  affair  of  virtue,  to  form  to 
itself  observations  concerning  the  advantage  or  disadvantage 
of  actions,  and  accordingly  to  regulate  its  conduct.  The 
weakness  of  our  reason,  and  the  avocations  arising  from  the 
infirmity  and  necessities  o£  our  nature  are  so  great  that  very 
few  men  could  ever  have  formed  those  long  deductions  of 
reason,  which  show  some  actions  to  be  in  the  whole  advan- 
tageous to  the  agent,  and  their  contraries  pernicious.  The 
Author  of  nature  has  much  better  furnished  us  for  a  virtuous 
conduct  than  our  moralists  setm  to  imagine,  by  almost  as 
quick  and  powerful  instructions  as  we  have  for  the  preservation 

^  JPhilosojphi(e  Moralis  Institutio  Compendiarna.    Lib.  II.,  cap.  10, 

§1- 

*  Si/stem  of  Moral  Fhilosophy,  Book  I.,  ch.  4.  These  are  almost  the 
exact  words  employed  by  Butler,  when  speaking  of  conscience.  See 
Preface  to  the  Sermons,  and  Sermons  II.,  Ill, 


HUTCHESON. 


of  our  bodies.  He  has  made  virtue  a  lovely  form,  to  excite 
our  pursuit  of  it,  and  has  given  us  strong*  affections  to  be  the 
springs  of  each  virtuous  action."  Passing  over  the  appeal  to 
final  causes  involved  in  this  and  similar  passages,  as  well  as 
the  assumption  that  the  "  moral  sense  has  had  no  growth  or 
history,  but  was  "implanted  "  in  man  exactly  in  the  condition 
in  which  it  is  now  to  be  found  among  the  more  civilized  races, 
an  assumption  common  to  the  systems  of  both  H'utcheson  and 
Butler,  it  may  be  remarked  that  the  employment  of  the  term 
"  sense  "  to  designate  the  approving  or  disapproving  faculty 
has  a  tendency  to  obscure  the  real  nature  of  the  process  which 
goes  on  in  an  act  of  moral  approbation  or  disapprbbation.  For, 
as  is  so  clearly  established  by  Hume,^  this  act  really  consists 
of  two  parts  : — one  an  act  of  deliberation,  more  or  less  pro- 
longed/resulting  in  an  intellectual  judgment;  the  other  a 
reflex  feeling,  probably  instantaneous,  of  either  satisfaction  or 
repugnance— of  satisfaction  at  actions  of  a  certain  class  which 
we  denominate  as  good  or  virtuous,  of  dissatisfaction  or 
repugnance  at  actions  of  another  class  which  we  denominate 
as  bad  or  vicious.  By  the  intellectual  part  of  this  process  we 
refer  the  action  or  habit  to  a  certain  class,  and  invest  it  with 
certain  characteristics ;  but  no  sooner  is  the  intellectual 
process  completed  than  there  is  excited  in  us  a  feeling  similar 
to  that  which  myriads  of  actions  and  habits  of  the  same  class, 
or  deemed  to  be  of  the  same  class,  have  excited  in  us  on  former 
occasions.  Now,  supposing  the  latter  part  of  this  process  to 
be  instantaneous,  uniform,  and  exempt  from  error,  the  former 
certainly  is  not.  All  mankind  may,  apart  from  their  selfish 
interests,  approve  of  that  which  is  virtuous  or  makes  for  the 
general  good,  but  surely  they  entertain  the  most  widely 
divergent  opinions,  and,  if  left  to  their  own  judgment,  would 

®  See  the  passages  referred  to  on  pp.  225-7.  Cp.  Brown*s  Lectures  on 
the  Philosophy  of  the  Human  Mind,  Lecture  Ixxxii 


HUTCHESON'S  ETHICAL  THEORY,  187 


frequently  arrive  at  directly  opposite  conclusions  as  to  the 
nature  of  the  particular  actions  and  habits  which  fall  under 
this  class.  This  distinction  is  undoubtedly  recognized  by 
Hutcheson,  as  it  could  hardly  fail  to  be,  in  his  analysis  of 
the  mental  process  preceding  moral  action,  nor  does  he  in- 
variably ignore  it,  even  when  treating  of  the  moral  appro- 
bation or  disapprobation  which  is  subsequent  on  action. 
Witness  the  following  passages : — "  Men  have  reason  given 
them,  to  judge  of  the  tendencies  of  their  actions,  that  they 
may  not  stupidly  follow  the  first  appearance  of  public  good ; 
but  it  is  still  some  appearance  of  good  which  they  pursue.^^' 
All  excitAg  reasons  presuppose  instincts  and  aflTections; 
and  the  justifying  presuppose  a  moral  sense.''®  "  When  we 
say  one  is  obliged  to  an  action,  we  either  mean — (1)  that  the 
action  is  necessary  to  obtain  happiness  to  the  agent,  or  to 
avoid  misery ;  or  (2)  that  every  spectator,  or  he  himself  upon 
reflection,  must  approve  his  action,  and  disapprove  his  omitting 
it,  if  he  considers  fully  all  its  circumstances.  The  former 
meaning  of  the  word  obligation  presupposes  selfish  aflf^ections, 
and  the  senses  of  private  happiness ;  the  latter  meaning 
includes  the  moral  sense.""  ^  Notwithstanding  these  passages, 
however,  it  remains  true  that  Hutcheson,  both  by  the  phrases 
which  he  employs  to  designate  the  moral  faculty,  and  by  the 
language  in  which  he  ordinarily  describes  the  process  of  moral 
approbation,  has  done  much  to  favour  that  loose  and  popular 
view  of  morality  which,  ignoring  the  difficulties  that  often 
attend  our  moral  decisions,  and  the  necessity  of  deliberation 
and  reflection,  encourages  hasty  resolves  and  impulsive  judg- 
ments. The  term  "  moral  sense ''  (which,  it  will  be  remem- 
bered, had  already  been  employed  by  Shaftesbury),  if  in- 

Inquiry  concerning  Moral  Good  and  Evil,  Sect.  4. 
*  Illustrations  on  the  Moral  Sense,  Sect.  1. 
»  Ibid. 


i88 


HUTCHESON. 


variably  coupled  with  the  term  "  moral  judgment/'  would  be 
open  to  little  objection ;  but,  taken  alone,  as  designating  the 
complex  process  of  moral  approbation,  it  is  liable  to  lead  not 
only  to  serious  misapprehension,  but  to  grave  practical  errors. 
For,  if  each  man's  decisions  are  solely  the  result  of  an  imme- 
diate intuition  of  the  moral  sense,  why  be  at  any  pains  to 
test,  correct,  or  review  them  ?  Or  why  educate  a  faculty 
whose  decisions  are  infallible?  The  expression  has,  in  fact, 
the  fault  of  most  metaphorical  terms ;  it  leads  to  an  exaggera- 
tion of  the  truth  which  it  is  intended  to  suggest. 

But,  though  Hutcheson  usually  describes  the  fboral  faculty 
as  acting  instinctively  and  immediately,  he  does  not,  like 
Butler,  confound  the  moral  faculty  with  the  moral  standard. 
The  test  or  criterion  of  right  action  is  with  Hutcheson,  as 
with  Shaftesbury,  its  tendency  to  promote  the  general  welfare 
of  mankind.  That  we  may  see  how  Love  or  Benevolence  is  the 
foundation  of  all  apprehended  excellence  in  social  virtues,  let 
us  only  observe  that,  amidst  the  diversity  of  sentiments  on 
this  head  among  various  sects,  this  is  still  allowed  to  be  the 
way  of  deciding  the  controversy  about  any  disputed  practice, 
namely,  to  inquire  whether  this  conduct,  or  the  contrary,  will 
most  effectually  promote  the  public  good.  The  morality  is 
immediately  adjusted,  when  the  natural  tendency,  or  influence 
of  the  action  upon  the  universal  natural  good  of  mankind,  is 
agreed  upon.  That  which  produces  more  good  than  evil  in 
the  Whole  is  acknowledged  good ;  and  what  does  not,  is 
counted  evil.  In  this  case,  we  no  other  way  regard  the  good 
of  the  actor,  or  that  of  those  who  are  thus  inquiring,  than  as 
they  make  a  part  of  the  great  system.  In  our  late  debates 
about  Passive  Obedience  and  the  right  of  Resistance  in 
defence  of  privileges,  the  point  disputed  among  men  of  sense 
was,  whether  universal  submission  would  probably  be  attended 


HUTCHESON'S  ETHICAL  THEORY.  189 


with  greater  natural  evils  than  temporary  insurrections,  when 
privileges  are  invaded ;  and  not,  whether  what  tended  in  the 
whole  to  the  public  natural  good,  was  also  niorallj  good/* 
In  comparing  the  moral  qualities  of  actions,  in  order  to 
regulate  our  election  among  various  actions  proposed,  or  to 
find  which  of  them  has  the  greatest  moral  excellency,  we  are 
led  by  our  moral  sense  of  virtue  to  judge  thus — that,  in  equal 
degrees  of  happiness  expected  to  proceed  from  the  action,  the 
virtue  is  in  proportion  to  the  number  of  persons  to  whom  the 
happiness  shall  extend  (and  here  the  dignity  or  moral  import- 
ance of  persons  may  compensate  numbers),  and,  in  equal 
numbers,  the  virtue  is  as  the  quantity  of  the  happiness  or 
natural  good;  or  that  the  virtue  is  in  a  compound  ratio  of 
the  quantity  of  good  and  number  of  enjoyers.  In  the  same 
manner,  the  moral  evil,  or  vice,  is  as  the  degree  of  misery  and 
number  of  sufferers ;  so  that  that  action  is  best  which  pro- 
cures the  greatest  happiness  for  the  greatest  numbers,  and 
that  worst  which,  in  like  manner,  occasions  misery/^  ^  What 
was  subsequently  called  the  utilitarian  standard  is  here  un- 
hesitatingly adopted  by  Hutcheson ;  and  it  is  curious  to 
notice  that  he  actually  employs  the  very  phrase  which  became 
so  celebrated  in  the  mouth  of  Bentham,  though  afterwards 
reduced  by  that  writer  to  the  more  simple  expression  greatest 
happiness/^ 

The  controversy  with  Mr.  Gilbert  Burnet  "  concerning  the 
true  foundation  of  Virtue  or  Moral  Goodness proceeds 
throughout  on  the  assumption  of  the  truth  of  what  would  now 
be  called  the  Utilitarian  or  Greatest  Happiness  Theory. 
The  only  question  between  the  disputants  is  whether  the 
ultimate  principle  of  action  is  given  by  a  sentiment,  as  is 
maintained  by  Hutcheson,  or  by  an  intuition  of  the  reason,  as 


Inquiry  concerning  Moral  Good  and  Evil,  Sect.  3. 


190 


HUTCHESON, 


is  held  by  his  opponent.  Hutcheson''s  theory  is  well  summed 
up  in  the  following-  passage  :  — 

*^  Ask  a  being  who  has  selfish  affections,  why  he  pursues 
wealth  ?  He  will  assign  this  truth  as  his  exciting  reason, 
'that  wealth  furnishes  pleasures  or  happiness/  Ask  again, 
why  he  desires  his  own  happiness  or  pleasure  ?  I  cannot 
divine  what  proposition  he  would  assign  as  the  reason  moving 
him  to  it.  This  is  indeed  a  true  proposition,  ^  There  is  a 
quality  in  his  nature  moving  him  to  pursue  happiness/  but 
it  is  this  quality  or  instinct  in  his  nature  which  moves  him, 
and  not  this  proposition.  Just  so  this  is  a  truth,  ^  that  a 
certain  medicine  cures  an  ague;'  but  it  is  not  a  proposition 
which  cures  the  ague,  nor  is  it  any  reflection  or  knowledge  of 
our  own  nature  which  excites  us  to  pursue  happiness.  If 
this  being  have  also  public  affections;  what  are  the  exciting 
reasons  for  observing  faith,  or  hazarding  his  life  in  war  ?  He 
will  assign  this  truth  as  a  reason,  ^  Such  conduct  tends  to  the 
good  of  mankind.''  Go  a  step  further,  why  does  he  pursue 
the  good  of  mankind  ?  If  his  affections  be  really  disinterested, 
without  any  selfish  view,  he  has  no  exciting  reason ;  the 
public  good  is  an  ultimate  end  to  this  series  of  desires.^^  ^ 

We  must  be  careful,  however,  to  distinguish  between  mere 
Natural  Good  and  that  which  is  properly  denominated  Moral 
Good,  which,  besides  bringing  us  advantage,  also  elicits  our 
moral  approbation.  "  That  the  perceptions  of  Moral  Good 
and  Evil  are  perfectly  different  from  those  of  Natural  Good, 
or  Advantage,  every  one  must  convince  himself,  by  reflecting 
upon  the  different  manner  in  which  he  finds  himself  affected 
when  these  objects  occur  to  him.  Had  we  no  sense  of  good 
distinct  from  the  advantage  or  interest  arising  from  the  ex- 
ternal seifses  and  the  perceptions  of  beauty  and  harmony ; 
our  admiration  and  love  toward  a  fruitful  field,  or  commodious 
^  Letters  concerning  the  Foundation  of  Virtue,  Letter  VI. 


HUTCHESON'S  ETHICAL  THEORY,  191 


habitation,  would  be  much  the  same  with  what  we  have 
toward  a  generous  friend,  or  any  noble  character.  For  both 
are,  or  may  be,  advantageous  to  us.  And  we  should  no  more 
admire  any  action,  or  love  any  person,  in  a  distant  country  or 
age,  whose  influence  could  not  extend  to  us,  than  we  love  the 
mountains  of  Peru,  while  we  are  unconcerned  in  the  Spanish 
Trade.  We  should  have  the  same  sentiments  and  affections 
toward  inanimate  beings,  which  we  have  toward  rational 
agents  ;  which  yet  every  one  knows  to  be  false.  Upon  com- 
parison, we  say,  *  Why  should  we  admire  or  love  with  esteem 
inanimate  beings  ?  They  have  no  intention  of  Good  to  us. 
Their  nature  makes  them  fit  for  our  uses,  which  they  neither 
know  nor  study  to  serve.  But  it  is  not  so  with  rational 
agents.  They  study  our  interest,  and  delight  in  our  hap- 
piness, and  are  benevolent  toward  us.'  We  are  all  then 
conscious  of  the  difference  between  that  Love  and  Esteem,  or 
perception  of  Moral  Excellence,  which  Benevolence  excites 
toward  the  person  in  whom  we  observe  it,  and  that  opinion 
of  natural  goodness,  which  only  raises  desire  of  possession 
toward  the  good  object/'  ^  An  action,  then,  to  be  morally 
good,  must  not  only  be  attended  with  good  consequences,  but 
also  originate  in  good  affections.  But  the  question  still 
remains,  What  are  good  affections,  and  Why  do  they  approve 
themselves  to  us  as  such  ?  Surely,  the  answer  is,  that  those 
affections  are  good  which  promote  the  general  welfare,  and 
that  they  approve  themselves  to  us,  because,  by  observation 
and  on  reflection,  we  discover  that  they  do  so.  Thus,  if  any 
affection,  of  which  we  generally  approve,  is  found,  when 
pursued  to  an  inordinate  degree,  or  applied  ta  particular 
objects,  to  be  attended  with  evil  results,  as  is  the  case,  for 
instance,  with  indiscriminate  charity,  misplaced  love,  ex- 
cessive resentment,  or  a  blind  and  injudicious  fondness  for 
*  Inquiry  concerning  Maral  Good  and  Evil,  Sect.  1. 


192 


HUTCHESON, 


children,  its  exercise  henceforth  becomes  to  all  rational  and 
reflective  persons  no  longer  an  occasion  of  praise,  but  of 
blame.  And  yet  again  it  may  be  asked,  if  a  tendency  to 
promote  the  general  welfare  is  the  only  measure  even  of  good 
affections,  why  are  we  animated  with  such  different  feelings 
towards  a  fertile  field  or  a  commodious  habitation  and  a 
generous  friend  ?  Is  it  not  that  we  sympathize  with  the  one, 
and  not  wdth  the  other ;  that  we  regard  our  friend  as  a 
voluntary  agent,  actuated  by  motives  similar  to  those  by 
which  we  are  ourselves  actuated,  and  evidencing  dispositions 
similar  to  those  of  which  we  are  conscious  in  ourselves,  when 
our  motives  and  dispositions  are  such  as  most  approve  them- 
selves to  us  ?  But  this  difference  in  the  rational  or  irrational, 
the  voluntary  or  involuntary,  character  of  the  objects  which 
we  approve  is  perfectly  compatible  with  an  identical  test  of 
excellence.  A  field  or  a  habitation  may  be  excellent  in  its 
kind,  whatever  be  the  character  of  its  possessor.  An  act  can 
only  be  morally  good,  if  it  be  the  act  of  a  rational  agent,  and 
if  the  agent,  in  performing  the  act,  be  animated  by  a  virtuous 
disposition;  but  then  the  only  intelligible  test  of  a  virtuous 
disposition  is  its  tendency  to  promote  the  public  good.  The 
ultimate  criterion  is  the  same,  however  circuitous  may  be  the 
mode  of  its  application,  and  however  different  may  be  the 
nature  of  the  objects  to  which  it  is  applied.  These  con- 
siderations, I  think,  will  be  found  to  remove  any  apparent 
discrepancies  in  the  language  which  Hutcheson  employs, 
when  speaking  of  the  standard  by  which  our  acts  are  to  be 
measured.  That  standard,  I  do  not  doubt,  he  conceived  of  as 
an  external  standard, — namely,  the  tendency  of  an  act,  or 
rather  of  the  disposition  from  which  it  springs,  to  promote 
happiness  and  to  alleviate  misery,  to  the  greatest  extent  pos- 
sible under  existing  circumstances.  At  the  same  time,  it 
must  be  acknowledged  that  the  adoption  of  an  external 


HUTCHESOJSrS  ETHICAL  THEORY.  193 


standard,  requiring*  so  much  care  and  reflection  in  its  appli- 
cation, ought  to  have  led  him  to  see  that  the  moral  faculty, 
by  which  the  standard  was  to  be  applied^  is  by  no  means  so 
simple  and  instinctive  as  he  imagined  it  to  be,  and  that, 
consequently,  these  two  parts  of*  his  system  are  in  reality 
inconsistent. 

It  must  not,  however,  be  supposed  that  Hutcheson  in- 
variably ignored  the  necessity  of  educating  the  Moral  Sense. 
Had  he  pursued  to  its  consequences,  and  more  frequently 
attended  to,  the  thought  expressed  in  such  a  passage  as  the 
following,  in  which  the  moral  faculty  and  the  moral  standard 
are  brought  into  juxtaposition,  his  system  would  doubtless 
have  been  saved  from  most  of  the  difficulties  and  incon- 
sistencies in  which  it  is  now  involved.  In  governing  our 
moral  sense,  and  desires  of  virtue,  nothing  is  more  necessary 
than  to  study  the  nature  and  tendency  of  human  actions  ; 
and  to  extend  our  views  to  the  whole  species,  or  to  all 
sensitive  natures,  as  far  as  the}^  can  be  affected  by  our  conduct. 
Our  moral  sense  thus  regulated,  and  constantly  followed  in 
our  actions,  may  be  the  most  constant  source  of  the  most 
stable  pleasure.''^  * 

As  connected  with  Hutcheson's  adoption  of  what  we  should 
now  call  the  utilitarian  standard,  it  may  be  noticed  that  he 
proposes  a  kind  of  moral  algebra,  for  the  purpose  of  "com- 
puting the  morality  of  actions."  This  calculus  occurs  in  the 
"  Inquiry  concerning  Moral  Good  and  Evil,^'  sect.  3.  It 
does  nothing  more  than  state  in  symbolical  language  a  few 
obvious  deductions  from  his  general  principles. 

Closely  connected  with  the  adoption  of  the  General  Good 
as  the  criterion  of  morality  is  what  has  been  called  the  bene- 
volent theory "  of  morals.    Hobbes  had  maintained  that  all 
*  The  Nature  and  Conduct  of  tlie  Passions,  Sect.  6. 

0 


194 


HUTCHESON, 


our  actions,  however  disguised  under  apparent  sympathy,  have 
their  roots  in  self-love.  Hutcheson,  following  or  rather  ex- 
aggerating the  doctrine  already  laid  down  by  Shaftesbury,* 
not  only  maintains  that  benevolence  is  the  sole  and  direct 
source  of  many  of  our  actions,  but,  by  a  not  unnatural  recoil 
from  the  repellent  tenets  of  Hobbes,  that  it  is  the  only 
source  of  those  actions  of  which,  on  reflection,  we  approve 
as  virtuous.  "  If  we  examine  all  the  actions  which  are 
accounted  amiable  anywhere,  and  inquire  into  the  grounds 
upon  which  they  are  approved,  we  shall  find  that,  in  the 
opinion  of  the  person  who  approves  them,  they  always  appear 
as  benevolent,  or  flowing  from  love  of  others  and  a  study  of 
their  happiness,  whether  the  approver  be  one  of  the  persons 
beloved  or  profited  or  not ;  so  that  all  those  kind  affections 
which  incline  us  to  make  others  happy,  and  all  actions  sup- 
posed to  flow  from  such  aff'ections,  appear  morally  good,  if, 
while  they  are  benevolent  toward  some  persons,  they  be  not 
pernicious  to  others.  Nor  shall  we  find  anything  amiable 
in  any  action  whatsoever,  where  there  is  no  benevolence 
imagined ;  nor  in  any  disposition,  or  capacity,  which  is  not 
supposed  applicable  to  and  designed  for  benevolent  pur- 
poses/"*  ^  Consistently  with  this  position,  actions  which  flow 
from  self-love  only  are  pronounced  to  be  morally  indiff'erent : 
"  The  actions  which  flow  solely  from  self-love,  and  yet  evi- 
dence no  want  of  benevolence,  having  no  hurtful  eflPects  upon 
others,  seem  perfectly  indifferent  in  a  moral  sense,  and  neither 
raise  the  love  or  hatred  of  the  observer.*'  But  surely,  by 
the  common  consent  of  civilized  men,  prudence,  temperance, 
cleanliness,  industry,  self-respect,  and,  in  general,  the  ^'per- 

'  For  Shaftesbury's  statement  of  the  "  benevolent  theory,"  which  is 
more  qualified  than  that  of  Hutcheson,  see  pp.  65 — 7,  and  pp.  72 — 6, 

®  Inquiry  concerning  Moral  Good  and  Evil,  Sect.  3. 
•  7  Ibid. 


HUTCHESON'S  ETHICAL  THEORY,  195 


sonal  virtues/^  as  they  are  called,  are  regarded,  and  rightly 
regarded,  as  fitting  objects  of  moral  approbation.  This  con- 
sideration could  hardly  escape  any  author,  however  wedded  to 
his  own  system,  and  Hutcheson  attempts  to  extricate  himself 
from  the  difficulty  by  laying  down  the  position  that  a  man 
may  justly  regard  himself  as  a  part  of  the  rational  system, 
and  may  thus  be,  in  part,  an  object  of  his  own  benevo- 
lence,^^ ^ — a  curious  abuse  of  terms,  which  really  concedes  the 
question  at  issue.  Moreover,  he  acknowledges  that,  though 
self-love  does  not  merit  approbation,  neither,  except  in  its 
extreme  forms,  does  it  merit  condemnation.  "We  do  not 
positively  condemn  those  as  evil  who  will  not  sacrifice  their 
private  interest  to  the  advancement  of  the  positive  good  of 
others,  unless  the  private  interest  be  very  small  and  the 
public  good  very  great."  ^  The  satisfaction  of  the  dictates 
of  self-love,  too,  is  one  of  the  very  conditions  of  the  pre- 
servation of  society.  '^Our  reason  can  indeed  discover  certain 
bounds,  within  which  svq  may  not  only  act  from  self-love 
consistently  with  the  good  of  the  whole,  but  every  mortal's 
acting  thus  within  these  bounds  for  his  own  good  is  absolutely 
necessary  for  the  good  of  the  whole ;  and  the  want  of  such 
self-love  would  be  universally  pernicious.''^  Self-love  is  really 
as  necessary  to  the  good  of  the  whole  as  benevolence, — as 
that  attraction  which  causes  the  cohesion  of  the  parts  is  as 
necessary  to  the  regular  state  of  the  whole  as  gravitation."  ^ 
To  press  home  the  inconsistencies  involved  in  these  various 
statements  would  be  a  superfluous  task. 

Hutcheson's  benevolent  view  of  human  nature  is  illustrated 
also  by  his  denying  that  malevolence  is  an  original  principle 

®  Inquiry  concerning  Moral  Good  and  Evil,  Sect.  3. 
'  Illustrations  upon  the  Moral  Sense,  Sect.  6. 
'  Inquiry  concerning  Moral  Good  and  Evil,  Sect.  3. 
*  Inquiry  concerning  Moral  Good  and  Evil,  Sect.  17, 

0  2 


196 


HUTCHESON. 


in  the  constitution  of  man.  Perhaps  our  nature  is  not 
capable  of  desiring  the  misery  of  any  being  calmly^  farther 
than  it  may  be  necessary  to  the  safety  of  the  innocent ;  we 
may  find,  perhaps,  that  there  is  no  quality  in  any  object 
which  would  excite  in  us  pure  disinterested  malice,  or  calm 
desire  of  misery  for  its  own  sake/'  ^  Against  this  position, 
which  is  maintained  also  by  Butler,*  it  might  be  objected 
that,  even  amongst  very  young  children,  we  often  find  a 
singular  and  precocious  love  of  cruelty.  This  is,  undoubtedly, 
one  of  the  most  curious  facts  in  moral  psychology,  but  it  may 
perhaps  be  accounted  for  by  supposing  it  to  originate  in  a 
combination  of  morbid  curiosity  with  an  equally  morbid  love 
of  power. 

The  ultimate  source  of  moral  distinctions  is,  of  course,  placed 
by  Hutcheson,  as  it  is  by  Shaftesbury,  in  the  original  make 
of  human  nature.  It  would  be  superfluous  to  quote  passages 
to  show  that  the  benevolent  affections,  and  the  moral  sense, 

or  determination  of  our  minds  to  approve  every  kind  affec- 
tion, either  in  ourselves  or  others,  and  all  publicly  useful 
actions  which  we  imagine  flow  from  such  affections/'  are, 
according  to  Hutcheson's  scheme  of  moral  psychology,  in- 
capable of  analysis  into  simpler  elements. 

In  the  analysis  of  the  mental  process  preceding  action, 
Hutcheson's  view  of  the  respective  provinces  of  Reason  and 
Desire  is  perfectly  just.  Our  ends  are  suggested  by  the 
emotional  part  of  our  nature,  while  Reason  discovers  the 

•  On  the  Nature  and  Conduct  of  the  Passions,  Sect.  3. 

*  Sermon  IX.  *'  Resentment  being  out  of  the  case,  there  is  not, 
properly  speaking,  any  such  thing  as  direct  ill-will  in  one  man  towards 
another."  If  this  position  be  true,  there  seems  to  be  no  adequate  reason 
for  confining  it  to  our  feelings  towards  other  human  beings. 


HUTCHESOJSrS  ETHICAL  THEORY. 


means  for  their  attainment/  ^*  We  have  indeed  many  con- 
fused harangues  on  this  subject,  telling  us,  '  We  have  two 
principles  of  action, — reason  and  affection  or  passion;  the 
former  in  common  with  angels,  the  latter  with  brutes:  no 
action  is  wise,  or  good,  or  reasonable,  to  which  we  are  not 
excited  by  reason,  as  distinct  from  all  affections;  or,  if  any 
such  actions  as  flow  from  affections  be  good,  it  is  only  by 
chance,  or  materially  and  not  formally/  As  if  indeed  reason, 
or  the  knowledge  of  the  relations  of  things,  could  excite  to 
action  when  we  proposed  no  end,  or  as  if  ends  could  be 
intended  without  desire  or  affection/^®  "  We  may  transiently 
observe  what  has  occasioned  the  use  of  the  word  reasonable, 
as  an  epithet  of  only  virtuous  actions.  Though  we  have 
instincts  determining  us  to  desire  ends,  without  supposing 
any  previous  reasoning ;  yet  it  is  by  use  of  our  reason  that 
we  find  out  the  means  of  obtaining  our  ends.  When  we  do 
not  use  our  reason,  we  often  are  disappointed  of  our  end.  We 
therefore  call  those  actions  which  are  effectual  to  their  ends 
reasonable,  in  one  sense  of  that  word/^' 

Any  direct  discussion  of  the  vexed  question  of  liberty  and 
necessity  appears  to  be  carefully  avoided  in  Hutcheson^s  pro- 
fessedly ethical  works.  But,  in  the  ST/nojJsis  Metaphysicce,  he 
touches  on  it  in  no  less  than  three  places,  briefly  stating  both 
sides  of  the  question,  but  evidently  inclining  to  that  which 
he  designates  as  the  opinion  of  the  Stoics  in  opposition  to 
what  he  designates  as  the  opinion  of  the  Peripatetics.  This 
is  substantially  the  same  as  the  doctrine  propounded  by 

'  For  a  more  detailed  analysis,  see  pp.  79 — 81,  where  I  have  discussed  the 
same  subject  in  relation  to  Shaftesbury.  Hutcheson  himself  pursues  the 
analysis  into  some  detail,  in  his  "Letters  concerning  the  True  Foundatioa 
of  Virtue." 

®  Illustrations  upon  the  Moral  Sense,  Sect.  1. 
?  Ibid. 


HUTCHESON. 


Hobbes  and  Locke  (to  the  latter  of  whom  Hutcheson  refers  in 
a  note),  namely,  that  our  will  is  determined  by  motives  in 
conjunction  with  our  general  character  and  habit  of  mind, 
and  that  the  only  true  liberty  is  the  liberty  of  acting*  as  we 
will,  not  the  liberty  of  willing  as  we  will.  Though,  however, 
his  leaning  is  clear,  he  carefully  avoids  dogmatizing,  and 
speaks  of  the  difficulty  as  one  which  has  always  vexed  the 
minds  of  pious  and  learned  men,  and  on  which  both  sides 
appeal  in  vain  to  our  internal  sense  [that  is  to  say  conscious- 
ness].^ As  a  practical  conclusion,  he  earnestly  deprecates 
the  angry  controversies  and  bitter  dissensions  to  which  the 
discussions  on  this  subject  had  given  rise. 

On  the  independent  character  of  Morality  as  a  science, 
and  on  the  various  sanctions  of  conduct,  less  is  said  by 
Hutcheson  than  by  Shaftesbury,  though  the  two  writers  are 
in  substantial  agreement.  Hutcheson^s  whole  treatment  of 
morals  proceeds  on  the  assumption  that  they  constitute  an 
independent  branch  of  investigation,  and  in  the  Illustrations 
upon  the  Moral  Sense  there  is  a  special  section,^  directed 
against  those  who  imagine  that,  to  make  an  action  virtuous, 
it  is  necessary  that  the  agent  should  have  previously  known 
his  action  to  be  acceptable  to  the  Deity,  and  have  undertaken 
it  chiefly  with  design  to  please  or  obey  him/'  "Human 
Laws,"**  he  says  elsewhere,^  may  be  called  good,  because  of 
their  conformity  to  the  Divine.  But  to  call  the  laws  of 
the  Supreme  Deity  good,  or  holy,  or  just,  if  all  Goodness, 
Holiness,  and  Justice  be  constituted  by  Laws,  or  the  will  of 

*  Sed  qusestionem  hanc  vexatissimam,  quae  doctorum  et  piorum  ingenia 
semper  torserat,  atque  de  qua  utrinque  frustra  ad  sensum  cujusque 
internum  provocatur,  jam  relinquamiis."  MetajphysiccB  Syno;psis,  Pars  II. 
cap.  2. 

9  Sect.  6. 

*  Inquiry  concerning  Moral  Good  and  Evil,  Sect.  7. 


HUTCHESON'S  ETHICAL  THEORY.  199 


a  superior  any  way  revealed,  must  be  an  insignificant "  [that 
is^  a  non-significant]  "  tautology,  amounting  to  no  more  than 
this,  *  That  God  wills  what  he  wills/  In  reply  to  those 
who  allege  that,  "in  those  actions  of  our  own  which  we  call 
good,  the  ground  of  our  approbation,  and  the  motive  to  them, 
is  that  we  sup])0se  the  Deity  will  reward  them,^^  he  answers 
that  "  it  is  enough  to  observe  that  many  have  high  notions 
of  Honour,  Faith,  Generosity,  Justice,  who  have  scarce  any 
opinions  about  the  Deity,  or  any  thoughts  of  future  rewards, 
and  that  many  abhor  anything  which  is  treacherous,  cruel,  or 
unjust,  without  any  regard  to  future  punishments/'  ^  More- 
over, as  he  remarks  in  another  place,^  "  Benevolence  scai'ce 
deserves  the  name,  when  we  desire  not  nor  delight  in  the 
good  of  others,  further  than  it  serves  our  own  ends/^  Na}^, 
on  so  limited  a  conception  of  the  grounds  of  moral  appro- 
bation and  the  motives  to  moral  action,  what  right  have  we 
to  ascribe  benevolence  to  the  Deity,  or  to  expect  Him  to 
reward  virtue  ?  "  Virtue  is  commonly  supposed,  upon  this 
scheme,  to  be  only  a  consulting  our  own  happiness  in  the 
most  artful  way,  consistently  with  the  good  of  the  whole  ; 
and  in  V^ice  the  same  thing  is  foolishly  pursued,  in  a  manner 
which  will  not  so  probably  succeed,  and  which  is  contrary  to 
the  good  of  the  whole.  But  how  is  the  Deity  concerned  in 
this  whole,  if  every  agent  always  acts  from  Self-love?  ^'  On 
the  other  hand,  the  higher  religious  sanction,  the  love  and 
veneration  of  God,  furnishes,  together  with  the  moral  sanction 
strictly  so  called,  the  purest  of  all  motives  to  the  exercise  of 
virtue.  "  This  love"  is  approved  by  the  moral  faculty  as 
the  greatest  excellence  of  mind  ; "  and  it  "  is  too  the  most 
useful  in  the  system,  since  the  admiration  and  love  of  moral 

2  Inquiry  concerning  Moral  Good  and  Evil,  Sect.  1. 
»  Sect.  2,  Art.  7. 


200 


HUTCHESON. 


perfection  is  a  natural  incitement  to  all  good  offices/'  ^  It 
may  be  noticed  that,  in  speaking  of  the  sanctions  supplied  by 
human  law,  Hutcheson  regards  them  as  simply  preventive 
and  deterrent.  Human  punishments  are  only  methods  of 
self-defence ;  in  which  the  degrees  of  guilt  are  not  the  proper 
measure,  but  the  necessity  of  restraining  actions  for  the  safety 
of  the  public/'  ^  This  view  is  strictly  in  harmony  with  the 
criterion  of  morality  adopted  by  Hutcheson,  and  forms 
another  point  of  agreement  with  the  later  utilitarian  school. 

Much  of  Hutcheson's  posthumous  work,  A  System  of  Moral 
Tli'dosophy,  as  well  as  the  short  Introduction  to  Moral 
PhilosopJiy^  originally  written  in  Latin,  is  occupied  with  the 
deduction  of  specific  rights  and  duties.  His  treatment  of 
these,'*  Mr.  Sidgwick  says,  though  decidedly  inferior  in 
methodical  clearness  and  precision,  does  not  differ  in  principle 
from  that  of  Paley  or  Bentham,  except  that  he  lays  greater 
stress  on  the  immediate  conduciveness  of  actions  to  the 
happiness  of  individuals,  and  more  often  refers  in  a  merely 
supplementary  or  restrictive  way  to  their  tendencies  in  respect 
of  general  happiness."^ 

As  Hutcheson's  ethical  system  is  so  closely  allied  with  that 
of  Shaftesbury,  it  is  unnecessary  that  I  should  devote  any 
further  space  to  it.  Its  relation  to  later  systems  will  be 
briefly  considered  in  my  last  chapter. 

<  System  of  Moral  Philosophy,  Book  I.,  ch.  10. 

*  Illustrations  upon  the  Moral  Sense,  Sect.  6,  Art.  6. 

•  Article  on  Ethics  in  the  Encyclopcedia  Britannica, 


CHAPTER  III. 


hutcheson's  writings  on  mental  philosophy,  logic, 
and  esthetics. 

In  the  sphere  of  mental  philosophy  and  logic,  Hutcheson's 
contributions  are  by  no  means  so  important  or  original  as  in 
that  of  moral  philosophy,  and,  as  they  are  rather  curious  in 
their  relation  to  other  systems  than  of  much  value  in  them- 
selves, 1  do  not  propose  to  examine  them  at  any  length.  In 
the  former  subject,  the  influence  of  Locke  is  apparent 
throughout.  All  the  main  outlines  of  his  philosophy  seem,  at 
first  sight,  to  be  accepted  as  a  matter  of  course.  Thus,  in 
stating  the  theory  of  the  moral  sense,  Hutcheson  is  peculiarly 
careful  to  repudiate  the  doctrine  of  innate  ideas,  admitting 
that  the  vast  diversity  of  moral  principles,  in  various 
nations  and  ages,  is  a  good  argument  against  innate  ideas  or 
principles,''^  though  it  does  not  ^'evidence  mankind  to  be  void 
of  a  moral  sense  to  perceive  Virtue  or  Vice  in  actions,  when 
they  occur  to  their  observation.'^*  At  the  same  time,  he 
acknowledges  that  we  might  call  certain  axioms  "  innate,'^  in 
the  sense  that  it  is  natural  to  man,  as  he  grows  up,  to  recog- 
nize their  truth,  and  that,  as  a  fact,  almost  all  men  do  so.^ 

All  our  ideas  are,  as  by  Locke,  referred  to  external  or 
internal  sense,  or,  in  other  words,  to  sensation  and  reflection, 

*  Inquiry  concerning  Moral  Good  and  Evil,  Sect.  4.  Cp.  sect.  1,  ad 
fin. 

2  Sijnopsis  Mttajpht/siccBy  Pars  I.,  cap.  2. 


202 


HUTCHESON. 


01%  as  Hutcbesoii  himself  phrases  it^  sensation  and  conscious- 
ness. "  These  two  powers  of  perception,  sensation  and 
consciousness""  (the  hitter  being  described  as  ''an  inward 
sensation,  perception,  or  consciousness,  of  all  the  actions, 
passions,  and  modifications  of  the  mind,  by  which  its  own  per- 
ceptions, judgments,  reasonings,  affections,  feelings  may  become 
its  object  ^'), '' introduce  into  the  mind  all  its  materials  of 
knowledge.  All  our  primary  and  direct  ideas  or  notions  are 
derived  from  one  or  other  of  these  sources.  But  the  mind 
never  rests  in  bare  perception ;  it  compares  the  ideas  received, 
discerns  their  relations,  marks  the  changes  made  in 
objects  by  our  own  action  or  that  of  others ;  it  inquires  into 
the  natures,  proportion.*,  causes,  effects,  antecedents,  con- 
sequents of  everything,  when  it  is  not  diverted  by  some 
importunate  appetite.  All  these  several  powers  of  external 
sensation,  consciousness,  judging,  and  reasoning,  are  com- 
monly called  the  acts  of  the  understanding.^^  ^  It  is,  how- 
ever, a  most  important  modification  of  this  doctrine,  when  he 
states  that  the  ideas  of  extension,  figure,  motion,  and  rest 
"are  more  properly  ideas  accompanying  the  sensations  of 
sight  and  touch  than  the  sensations  of  either  of  these  senses;'* 
that  the  idea  of  self  accompanies  every  thought  ;  and  that 
the  ideas  of  number,  duration,  and  existence  accompany  every 
other  idea  whatsoever.*  In  this  conception  of  ideas  invariably 
concomitant  with  other  ideas,  Hutcheson  is  approximating  very 
closely  to  the  doctrine  of  innate  ideas,  and  indeed  it  is  difficult 

3  System  of  Moral  Philosophy,  Book  I.,  ch.  1.  C^.  LogiccB  Com/pend, 
Pars  I.,  cap.  1 ;  Syn.  Metaph.,  Pars  I.,  cap.  1.  In  the  latter  passage  he 
says  that  the  existence  of  things  is  made  known  either  by  "  internal 
sense,  as  each  man  knows  his  own  existence;"  or  by  external  sense, 
*'  which,  by  its  nat\iral  force,  sufficiently  establishes  the  existence  of  other 
things;"  or  by  Reasoning;  or  by  Testimony. 

*  See  Essay  on  the  Nature  and  Conduct  of  the  Passions,  Sect,  i.,  Art. 
1 ;  Syn.  Metaph.,  Pars  I.,  cap.  1,  Pars  II.,  cap.  1. 


MENTAL  PHILOSOPHY. 


203 


to  see  on  what  other  hypothesis  the  theory  can  be  consistently 
maintained.  For,  thoug-h  the  "accompanying  ideas  require 
other  ideas  to  excite  them,  it  would  seem  as  if  they  must 
already  be  latent  in  the  mind,  in  order  to  be  excited.  The 
constantly  repeated  statement  that  all  our  ideas  are  ultimately 
to  be  traced  to  external  or  internal  sensation  (Sensation  or 
Reflection)  is  certainly  not  easily  reconciled  with  the  existence 
of  *^  accompanying"  ideas/^  unless  indeed,  which  may  possibly 
be  the  case,  Hutcheson  meant  nothing-  more  by  this  expres- 
sion than  that  such  ideas  are  produced  in  us  by  a  plurality  of 
senses— that,  in  fact,  they  are    common  sensibles.'^  ^ 

In  addition  to  the  repudiation  of  the  doctrine  of  Innate  Ideas, 
and  the  recognition  of  Sensation  and  Reflection  as  the 
ultimate  sources  of  all  knowledge,  other  important  points  in 
which  Hutcheson  follows  the  lead  of  Locke  are  his  deprecia- 
tion of  the  importance  of  the  so-called  laws  of  thought,  his  dis- 
tinction between  the  primary  and  secondary  qualities  of  bodies, 
the  position  that  we  cannot  know  the  inmost  essences  of  things 
("  intimae  rerum  naturse  sive  essentijB  ^*),  though  they  excite 
various  ideas  in  us,  and  the  assumption  that  external  things 
are  known  only  through  the  medium  of  ideas,  though,  at  the 
same  time,  we  are  assured  of  the  existence  of  an  external 
world  corresponding  to  these  ideas.  Hutcheson  attempts  to 
account  for  our  assurance  of  the  reality  of  an  external  world 
by  referring  it  to  a  natural  instinct.    "  Although  our  minds 

*  Sir  William  Hamilton  (Ed.  of  Reid's  Works,  p.  124,  note)  points  out 
that  Reid  was  anticipated  by  Hutcheson,  in  representing  the  ideas  of 
exteneion,  figure,  motion,  and  rest  as  concomitant  rather  than  as  direct 
ideas  of  touch  and  sight.  Reid  (Ed.  Hamilton,  p.  126)  expressly  says 
that  these  ideas  cannot  come  either  from  sensation  or  from  reflection.  The 
reader  who  wishes  to  acquaint  himself  M'ith  the  accounts  given  by  modern 
psychologists  of  the  mode  in  which  we  acquire  these  ideas  should  refer  to 
Bain  on  the  Senses  and  the  Intellect,  Herbert  Spencer's  Psyclwlogy,  and 
Ribot's  Fsychologie  Allemande  Contemj>oraine. 


204 


HUTCHESON. 


can  not  attain  to  the  knowledge  of  anything,  except  by  the 
intervention  of  some  notion  or  idea  (since  not  things  them- 
selves, but  ideas  or  notions,  are  what  are  proximately 
presented  to  the  mind) ;  yet  are  we  compelled  by  nature 
herself  to  refer  very  many  of  our  ideas  to  external  things,  such 
ideas  being,  as  it  were,  the  images  or  representations  of  the 
things  themselves.'"^  This  is  what  Sir  William  Hamilton' 
calls  the  scheme  of  Cosmothetic  Idealism  or  Hypothetical 
Realism,  which,  while  positing  the  existence  of  an  external 
world,  maintains  that  we  are  only  conscious  of  the  ideas 
which  are  representative  of  it.  The  great  majority  of 
philosophers,  as  Hamilton  points  out,  have  maintained  this 
opinion,  though  there  have  been  some  few  who  have  been 
hardy  enough,  like  Berkeley,  to  deny  the  reality  of  any  non- 
mental  prototype  of  our  ideas,  and  others,  like  Sir  William 
Hamilton  himself  and  probably  Reid,  who  have  held,  with 
the  vulgar,  that  not  only  does  an  external  world  exist  but 
that  we  are  directly  conscious  of  it.  Hutcheson  does  not  rely 
solely  on  the  testimony  of  a  natural  instinct  to  the  reality  of  ex- 
ternal things.  He  proceeds  to  adduce  arguments.  One  of  these, 
which  is  an  adaptation  of  an  argument  employed  by  Locke,^ 
is  based  on  the  contrast  between  the  faint  ideas  of  memory 
and  the  more  vivid  ideas  which  we  derive  from  the  present 
impressions  of  sense.  We  have  no  doubt  that  the  faint  idea, 
which  we  are  able  to  recall  whenever  we  choose,  represents 
the  more  vivid  idea  which  we  experienced  before.  And, 
similarly,  we  may  be  certain  that  the  more  vivid  ideas  them- 
selves represent  external  prototypes.  Locke  appears  to  state 
the  argument  more  forcibly,  when  he  asks  whether  a  man 
"  be  not  invincibly  conscious  to  himself  of  a  different  percep- 

•  Metaph.  Sj/n.,  Pars  I.,  cap.  1. 

7  Essay  on  Idealism  in  Hamilton's  Discussions. 

8  Essay,  Bk.  IV.,  ch.  2,  §  14 


MENTAL  PHILOSOPHY, 


tion,  when  he  looks  on  the  sun  by  day,  and  thinks  on  it  by 
night,  when  he  actually  tastes  wormwood,  or  smells  a  rose,  or 
only  thinks  on  that  savour  or  odour  Of  all  the  arguments 
employed  against  those  who  question  the  reality  of  non- 
mental^  causes  of  our  sensations,  I  think  this  one  of  the  most 
eflfective.  The  difference  between  the  presented  and  the 
reproduced  sensation  requires  to  be  accounted  for  in  some  way 
or  other,  and  no  explanation  is  so  simple  or  so  adequate  as  that 
implied  in  the  ordinary  belief,  that  the  presented,  or  more  vivid, 
sensation  is  due  to  some  force,  of  an  order  altogether  different 
from  the  phenomena  of  mind,  impressed  from  without. 
Another  argument  advanced  by  Hutcheson  is  that  each  man 
has  a  direct  consciousness  of  himself,  and  of  his  own  personal 
identity,  as  distinct  from  his  fleeting  sensations,  emotions,i 
and  thoughts.  By  parity  of  reasoning,  there  must  be  things, 
having  a  real  existence,  independently  of  our  ideas  of  them. 
As  if  aware  that  this  latter  argument  is  not  a  very  cogent 
one,  he  recurs  to  the  statement  that  we  are  led  by  a  natural 
instinct  to  refer  our  ideas,  or  at  least  those  which  are  derived 
through  sensation,  to  external  objects,  as  the  causes  of 
them. 

The  secondary  qualities  of  bodies,  that  is,  the  qualities 

•  I  employ  this  expression  rather  than  the  word  *'  external,"  because 
an  absolute  Idealist,  who  denies  the  real  existence  of  anything  in  the 
Universe  but  Mind,  may  still  refer  our  sensations  to  an  external  source, 
namely,  the  mind  or  will  oP  God.  Thus,  Berkeley,  in  his  Third  Dialogue 
between  Hylas  and  Philonous,  says  :  "  It  is  plain  that  sensible  ideas  have 
an  existence  exterior  to  my  mind ;  since  I  find  them  by  experience  to  be 
independent  of  it.  There  is  therefore  some  other  mind  wherein  they 
exist,  during  the  intervals  between  the  times  of  m^^  perceiving  them. 
And,  as  the  same  is  true  with  regard  to  all  other  finite  created  spirits, 
it  necessarily  follows  there  is  an  omnipresent  eternal  mind,  which  knows 
and  comprehends  all  things,  and  exhibits  them  to  our  view  in  such  a 
manner,  and  according  to  such  rules,  as  He  Himself  hath  ordained,  and 
are  by  us  termed  the  laws  of  nature." 


206 


HUTCHESON, 


proper  to  some  particular  sense^  as  colours,  odours,  sounds, 
Hutcheson  holds,  with  Locke,  have  no  resemblance  to  any- 
thing in  the  bodies  themselves,  though,  by  a  fixed  law  of 
nature,  the  bodies  have,  through  their  primary  qualities,  a 
power  of  exciting  such  ideas  in  us.  Of  the  correspondence  or 
similitude  between  our  ideas  of  the  primary  qualities  of  things 
(that  is  to  say,  duration,  number,  extension,  figure,  motion, 
and  rest)  and  the  primary  qualities  themselves  God  alone  can 
be  assigned  as  the  cause.  This  similitude  has  been  effected 
by  Him  through  a  law  of  nature.  Whether  this  first 
perception  of  the  primary  qualities  be  called  an  active  or 
a  passive  operation  of  the  mind,  no  other  cause  of  the 
similitude  or  correspondence  between  ideas  of  this  kind  and 
fche  qualities  themselves  can  be  assigned  than  God  Himself, 
who,  by  an  established  law  of  nature,  brings  it  about  that  the 
notions,  which  are  excited  by  present  objects,  may  be  like  the 
objects  themselves,  or,  at  least,  represent  their  habitudes  or 
qualities,  if  not  their  true  quantities."*  Locke  had  repeatedly 
stated  that  the  primary  qualities  of  bodies  are  resemblances 
of  them,  and  their  patterns  do  really  exist  in  the  bodies 
themselves'^  (see,  for  instance.  Essay,  Bk.  II.  ch.  8,  sect.  15), 
and  he  also  speaks  of  God  "  annexing certain  ideas  to 
certain  motions  of  bodies  [Ibid.,  sect.  13,  and  elsewhere);  but 
nowhere,  I  believe,  does  he  propound  a  theory  so  precise  and 
definite  as  that  here  propounded  by  Hutcheson,  which 
reminds  us  at  least  as  much  of  the  speculations  of  Male- 
branche  as  of  those  of  Locke. 

Amongst  the  more  important  points  in  which  Hutcheson 
diverges  from  Locke  is  his  account  of  the  idea  of  personal 
identity,  which  he  appears  to  have  regarded  as  made  known 
to  us  directly  by  consciousness,  though  itself  distinct  from 
consciousness  ;  instead  of  being  identical  with,  and  there- 
*  Syn.  Metaph.,  Pars  II.,  cap.  1. 


MENTAL  PHILOSOPHY. 


207 


fore^  of  course,  limited  by,  consciousness,  present  or  remem- 
bered. That  his  own  mind  remains  the  same,  every  one 
is  conscious  to  himself,  by  an  internal  perception,  most 
trustworthy,  but  inexplicable,  by  which  he  knows  that  his 
own  mind  is  altogether  different  from  every  other  mind/'^ 
''Every  one  retains  a  consciousness  of  himself,  or  a  sense  of 
such  a  kind,  as  does  not  permit  him  to  doubt  whether  he 
remains  the  same  to-day  that  he  was  yesterday,  howsoever 
changed  his  thoughts  may  be,  or  even  though  they  cease 
awhile  altogether/^*  It  would  have  been  better  to  derive  the 
idea  of  the  Same  Self  (which,  of  course,  involves  the  idea  of  a 
Self  or  Ego,  as  distinct  from  its  modifications),  not  from  a 
single  act  of  consciousness,  but  from  the  comparison  of  two 
or  more  acts.  Whenever  I  pass  from  some  present  sensation 
or  idea  to  some  sensation  or  idea  which  I  have  formerly 
experienced,  or  to  some  sensation  or  idea  which  I  expect  to 
experience  in  the  future,  this  comparison  is  found,  on  reflec- 
tion, to  imply  the  idea  of  Personal  Identity,  or  of  the  Same 
Self  as  the  subject  of  the  two  mental  acts  compared.  And, 
when  the  idea  of  the  Same  Self  has  been  thus  gained,  it  may 

2  "Since  consciousne^is  always  accompanies  thinking,  and  'tis  that  that 
makes  every  one  to  be  what  he  calls  Self,  and  thereb}'  distinguishes  himself 
from  all  other  thinking  things,  in  this  alone  consists  Personal  Identity, 
that  is  the  sameness  of  a  rational  being.  And  as  far  as  this  Conscious- 
ness can  be  extended  bnck wards  to  any  past  action  or  thought,  so  far 
reaches  the  Identity  of  that  Person ;  it  is  the  same  Self  now  as  it  was 
then,  and  'tis  by  the  same  Self  with  this  present  one  that  now  reflects  on 
it  that  that  action  was  done."  Locke's  Essay,  Bk.  II.,  ch.  27,  §  9. 
This  explanation  seems  to  involve  the  extraordinary  paradox  that  I  am 
not  the  same  person  that  I  was  this  day  tAventy  years  ago,  the  events  of 
which  I  have  entirely  forgotten,  or  even  the  same  person  that  I  was  last 
night,  during  which  I  was  in  a  sound,  and,  so  far  as  I  know,  unconscious 
sleep. 

3  Metaph.  Syn.,  Pars  L,  cap.  3. 
*  Pars  I.,  cap.  1. 


208 


HUTCHESON. 


be  regarded  as  the  subject,  in  the  past,  of  many  acts  which 
have  now  altogether  passed  out  of  recollection,  as  well  us,  in 
the  future,  of  many  acts  of  which  we  can  now  form  no 
anticipation. 

The  distinction  between  body  and  mind,  "  corpus or 
materia  and  res  cogitans/Ms  more  emphatically  accen- 
tuated by  Hutcheson  than  by  Locke,  who,  however,  notwith- 
standing his  suggestion  that  God  might,  if  He  pleased, 
'*  superadd  to  Matter  a  Faculty  of  Thmking,"'^  is  by  no  means 
to  be  ranked  as  a  Materialist.^  Generally,  Hutcheson  speaks 
as  if  we  had  a  direct  consciousness  of  mind  as  distinct  from 
body,^  though,  in  the  posthumous  work  on  Moral  Fldlosophy , 
he  expressly  states  that  we  know  mind  as  we  know  body  by 
qualities  immediately  perceived,  though  the  substance  of  both 
be  unknown/^ 

The  distinction  between  perception  proper  and  sensation 
proper,  which  occurs  by  implication  though  it  is  not  explicitly 
worked  out,^  the  hint  as  to  the  imperfection  of  the  ordinary 
division  of  the  external  senses  into  five  classes  already  alluded 
to,  the  limitation  of  consciousness  to  a  special  mental  faculty, 
namely,  that  by  which  we  perceive  our  own  minds,  and  all 
that  goes  on  within  them,^  and  the  disposition  to  refer  on 

*  See  my  "Locke  "  in  the  series  of  English  Men  of  Letters,  pp.  139, 
140.  Locke  regarded  his  own  suggestion,  when  applied  to  man,  as  an 
improbable  one,  and  that  the  "  Something,"  which  has  '*  existed  from 
eternity,"  must,  "  necessarily  be  a  cogitative  being,"  he  held  to  admit  of 
demonstration  (Essay,  Bk.  IV.,  ch.  10). 

^  See,  for  instance,  Syn.  Metaph^  Pars  ii.  cap.  3. 
^  Bk.  1.  ch.  1. 

®  See  Hamilton's  Lectures  on  Metaphysics,  Lect.  24;  Hamilton's 
edition  of  Dugald  Stewart's  Works,  vol.  v.  p.  420. 

*  "  Cujus  ope  nota  sunt  ea  omnia,  qu{e  in  mente  geruntur."  .  .  .  . 
"  Hac  animi  vi  Se  novit  quisque."  Syn.  Metafh.,  Pars  ii.  cap.  1.  This 
limitation  of  Consciousness  to  a  specific  faculty  of  self-knowledge,  in 
which  Hutcheson  is  followed  by  Reid  and  Stewart,  is  severely  criticized 


COMPENDIUM  OF  LOGIC. 


209 


disputed  questions  of  philosopli}^  not  so  much  to  formal 
arguments  as  to  the  testimony  of  consciousness  and  our 
natural  instincts/  are  also  amongst  the  points  in  which 
Hutcheson  supplemented  or  departed  from  the  philosophy  of 
Locke.  The  last  point  can  hardly  fail  to  suggest^  to  such  of 
my  readers  as  are  acquainted  with  the  later  speculations  of  the 
Scottish  school,  the  '^common-sense  philosophy  of  Reid, 
and  here  it  may  be  remarked  that  the  interest  attaching 
to  Hutcheson's  psychological  and  metaphysical  views  consists 
very  largely  in  the  intermediate  position  which  they  occupy 
between  the  system  of  Locke  and  that  of  Reid  and  the  later 
Scottish  school.  If  we  confine  ourselves  to  merely  enumerating 
detached  questions,  he  perhaps  stands  nearer  to  Locke,  but  in 
the  general  spirit  of  his  philosophy  he  seems  to  approach 
more  clo.sely  to  his  Scottish  successors. 

The  short  Compendium  of  Logic ,  which  is  more  original  than 
such  works  usually  are,  is  chiefly  remarkable  for  the  large 
proportion  of  psychological  matter  which  it  contains.  In 
these  parts  of  the  book  Hutcheson  mainly  follows  Locke. 
The  technicalities  of  the  subject  are  passed  lightly  over,  and 
the  book  is  eminently  readable.  It  may  be  specially  noticed 
that  he  distinguishes  between  the  mental  result  and  its  verbal 
expression  [idea — term;  judgment — proposition],  that  he 
constantly  employs  the  word  idea,"  and  that  he  defines 
logrical  truth  as    the  agreement  of  the  si^^ns  with  the  thino:8 

by  Sir  W.  Hamilton,  who,  in  accordance  with  the  nomenclature  and 
teaching  of  most  philosophers,  makes  Consciousness  coextensive  with 
our  knowledge  and  our  cognitive  faculties  in  general, — "  the  genus  under 
which  our  several  faculties  of  knowledge  are  contained  as  species,"  and  of 
which  "  they  are  only  modifications."  See  Hamilton's  Lectures  on 
Metaphysics,  Lects.  XII.,  XIII.;  Edition  of  Reid,  Notes  H,  I. 

*  "  Ad  gravissima  quaedam  in  philosophia  dogmata  amplectenda,  non 
argumentis  aut  ratiocinationibus,  ex  rerura  perspecta  natura  petitis,  sed 
potius  sensu  quodam  interno,  usu,  atque  naturae  impulsu  quodam  aut 
instinctu  ducimur."   Syn.  Metajph,,  Pars  II.  cap.  3. 

P 


210 


HUTCHESON, 


signified/'  or  the  agreement  of  the  proposition  with  things 
themselves/*^  thus  implicitly  repudiating  a  merely  formal 
view  of  logic.  This  work  is  now  only  very  rarely  to  be  met 
with. 

Hutcheson  may  claim  to  have  been  one  of  the  earliest 
modern  writers  on  aesthetics.  His  speculations  on  this  subject 
are  contained  in  the  Inquiry  concerumg  Beauty ,  Order,  Harmony ^ 
and  Design,  the  first  of  the  two  treatises  published  in  1725, 
which,  Professor  Veitch  ^  reminds  us,  preceded  the  treatise  of 
the  Pere  Andre  in  France  (1741),  and  that  of  Baumgarten  in 
Germany  (1750).  He  maintains  that  we  are  endowed  with  a 
special  sense  by  which  we  perceive  beauty,  harmony,  and  pro- 
portion. This  is  a  reflex  sense,  because  it  presupposes  the 
action  of  the  external  senses  of  sight  and  hearing.  It  may 
be  called  an  internal  sense,  both  in  order  to  distinguish  its 
perceptions  from  the  mere  perceptions  of  sight  and  hearing, 
and  because  in  some  other  aff'airs,  where  our  external  senses 
are  not  much  concerned,  we  discern  a  sort  of  beauty,  very 
like,  in  many  respects,  to  that  observed  in  sensible  objects, 
and  accompanied  with  like  pleasure.^'  *  The  latter  reason 
leads  him  to  call  attention  to  the  beauty  perceived  in  universal 
truths,  in  the  operations  of  general  causes,  and  in  moral 
principles  and  actions.  Thus,  the  analogy  between  beauty 
and  virtue,  which  was  so  favourite  a  topic  with  Shaftesbury, 
becomes  also  prominent  in  the  writings  of  Hutcheson. 
Scattered  up  and  down  the  treatise,  there  are  many  important 

*  "Veritas  Logica  est  Convenientia  signorum  cum  rebus  significatis." 
Log.  Compend.,  Pars  II.,  cap.  1.  He  adds :  "  Veritas  Ethica  est  Con- 
venientia signorum  cum  mentis  sententia."  In  the  Syn.  Metaph.y  Pars  I., 
cap.  3,  he  defines  "Yeritas  Logica"  as  "  Propositicnis  convenientia 
cum  rebus  ipsis." 

»  Mind,  Yol.  IL,  p.  211. 

*  Inquiry,  &c..  Sect.  1. 


ESTHETICS. 


211 


and  interesting  observations,  such  as  that  what  we  properly 
call  the  beautiful  always  implies  uniformity  amidst  variety. 
"To  speak  in  the  mathematical  style,  it  seems  to  be  in  a 
compound  ratio  of  Uniformity  and  Vaiiety;  so  that  where 
the  Uniformity  of  bodies  is  equal,  the  Beauty  is  as  the 
Variety ;  and  where  the  Variety  is  equal,  the  Beauty  is  as 
the  Uniformity.""^  Hence  the  internal  sense,  or  Sense  of 
Beauty,  spoken  of  above,  may  be  defined  as  "a  passive  power 
of  receiving"  ideas  of  beauty  from  all  objects  in  which  there  is 
Uniformity  amidst  Variety.®  That  objects  of  this  kind  are 
calculated  to  give  us  the  Sense  of  Beauty,  is  "probably  not 
the  effect  of  necessity  but  of  choice  in  the  Supreme  Agent, 
who  constituted  our  Senses,'^'  His  design  being  to  discover 
Himself  to  us  not  only  as  omnipotent,  but  also  as  wise  and 
good.  As  in  the  human  constitution,  Hutcheson  held  that 
there  is  no  original  principle  of  malevolence,  so  he  holds  that, 
among  the  objects  of  nature  and  art,  there  is  no  form  which 
seems  necessarily  disagreeable  of  itself,  when  we  dread  no 
other  evil  from  it,  and  compare  it  with  nothing  better  of  the 
kind."*'  "  Deformity  is  only  the  absence  of  Beauty,  or  defi- 
ciency in  the  Beauty  expected  in  any  species.'''  "  Our  Sense 
of  Beauty  seems  designed  to  give  us  positive  pleasure,  but 
not  positive  pain  or  disgust,  any  further  than  what  arises 
from  disappointment.''  ®  To  the  student  of  mental  philosophy 
it  may  be  specially  interesting  to  remark  that  Hutcheson 
both  applies  the  principle  of  association  to  explain  our  ideas 
of  beauty  and  also  sets  limits  to  its  application,  insisting  on 
there  being  "a  natural  power  of  perception  or  sense  of  beauty, 
in  objects,  antecedent  to  all  custom,  education,  or  example,'' 
and  on  "some  objects  being  immediately  the  occasions  of  this 


•  Inquiry,  &c..  Sect.  2. 
7  Sect.  8. 

p  2 


•  Sect.  6. 
»  Sect.  6. 


212 


HUTCHESON. 


pleasure  of  beauty/*  without  any  reg-ard  to  their  convenience 
and  use.^ 

Though  Hutcheson  employs  the  principle  of  Association 
for  the  purpose  of  explaining  our  tastes  and  distastes,  in  the 
matter  of  Beauty  and  Deformity,  more  sparingly  than  many 
of  his  successors,  some  of  his  remarks  on  this  head  are 
peculiarly  just  and  suggestive.     Take,  for   instance,  the 
following  passages.     "  Associations  o£  Ideas  make  objects 
pleasant  and  delightful,  which  are  not  naturally  apt  to  give 
any  such  pleasures ;  and,  in  the  same  way,  the  casual  con- 
junctions of  ideas  may  give  a  disgust,  where  there  is  nothing 
disagreeable  in  the  form  itself.    And  this  is  the  occasion  of 
many  fantastic  aversions  to  figures  of  some  animals,  and  to 
some  other  forms.    Thus  swine,  serpents  of  all  kinds,  and 
some  insects  really  beautiful  enough,  are  beheld  with  aversion 
by  many  people,  who  have  got  some  accidental  ideas  associated 
to  them.    And  for  distastes  of  this  kind  no  other  account  can 
be  given "  The  beauty  of  trees,  their  cool  shades,  and  their 
aptness  to  conceal  from  observation,  have  made  groves  and  woods 
the  usual  retreat  to  those  who  love  solitude,  especially  to  the 
religious,  the  pensive,  the  melancholy,  arid  the  amorous.  And 
do  not  we  find  that  we  have  so  joined  the  ideas  of  these 
dispositions  of  mind  with  those  external  objects,  that  they 
always  recur  to  us  along  with  them  ?    The  cunning  of  the 
heathen  priests  might  make  such  obscure  places  the  scene  of 
the  fictitious  appearances  of  their  Deities  ;  and  hence  we  join 
ideas  of  something  divine  to  them.    We  know  the  like  effect 
in  the  ideas  of  our  churches,  from  the  perpetual  use  of  them 
only  in  religious  exercises.     The   faint  light  in  Gothic 
buildings  has  had  the  same  association  of  a  very  foreign  idea, 

•  See  Inquiry,  &c.,  Sects.  1,  6,  7;  Hamilton's  Lectures  on  Meta- 
physics, Lect.  44,  ad  fin. 


ESTHETICS. 


213 


which  our  poet  shows  in  his  epithet, — "A  dim  religious 
light/^  In  like  manner^  it  is  known  that  often  all  the 
circumstances  of  actions,  or  places,  or  dresses  of  persons,  or 
voice,  or  song,  which  have  occurred  at  any  time  together, 
when  we  were  strongly  affected  by  any  passion,  will  be  so 
connected  that  any  one  of  these  will  make  all  the  rest  recur. 
And  this  is  often  the  occasion  both  of  great  pleasure  and 
pain,  delight  and  aversion  to  many  objects,  which  of  them- 
selves might  have  been  perfectly  indifferent  to  us  :  but  these 
approbations  or  distastes  are  remote  from  the  ideas  of  beauty, 
being  plainly  different  ideas."  We  know  how  agreeable  a 
very  wild  country  may  be  to  any  person  who  has  spent  the 
cheerful  days  of  his  youth  in  it,  and  how  disagreeable  very 
beautiful  i)laces  may  be,  if  they  were  the  scenes  of  his  misery. 
And  this^'  (namely,  the  fact  that  many  other  ideas,  besides 
those  of  Beaut}^  and  Harmony,  may  either  please  or  displease, 
according  to  persons^  tempers  and  past  circumstances)  may 
help  us,  in  many  cases,  to  account  for  the  diversities  of  fancy, 
without  denying  the  uniformity  of  our  internal  Sense  of 
Beauty." 

1  Sect.  6. 


214 


HUTCHESON, 


CHAPTER  IV. 

RECEPTION  AND  INFLUENCE  OF  HUTCHESON's  WRITINGS. 

The  publication  of  Hutcheson's  two  first  treatises  soon 
provoked  a  friendly  controversy  in  the  columns  of  the  London 
Journal,  where  his  ethical  theories  were  criticized  by  Mr, 
Gilbert  Burnet,  writing  under  the  signature  of  Philaretus, 
Hutcheson  replying  under  that  of  Philanthropus.  *^The 
debate/''  Dr.  Leechman  informs  us,  "was  left  unfinished, 
Philaretus'  death  having  put  an  end  to  the  correspondence, 
which  was  proposed  to  have  been  afterwards  carried  on  in  a 
more  private  manner/'  Mr.  Burnet,  in  his  preface  to  the 
published  letters,  praises  the  beautiful  structure  which  the 
author  has  raised,^'  but  regards  it  as  resting  on  no  sufficient 
foundation.  Such  a  foundation  for  morality  has,  he  thinks, 
been  laid  by  Cumberland,  Clarke,  and  Wollaston,  and  he 
enunciates  it  in  this  one  simple  proposition,  That  virtue,  or 
moral  goodness,  is  founded  on  truth."*^  The  main  question 
at  issue  between  the  two  correspondents  is  whether  the 
ultimate  grounds  of  moral  action  are  supplied  by  reason  or  by 
feeling.  Philaretus,''''  says  Hutcheson,  "  seems  to  me  to 
maintain,  '  That  there  is  some  exciting  reason  to  virtue, 
antecedent  to  all  kind  aff'ections  or  instinct  toward  the  good 
of  others  :  and  that,  in  like  manner,  there  are  some  justifying 
reasons,  or  truths,  antecedent  to  any  moral  sense,  causing 
approbation.^  The  author  of  the  Inquiry,  I  apprehend,  must 
maintain,  '  That  desires,  affections,  instincts,  must  be  previous 


INFLUENCE  OF  HIS  WRITINGS,  215 


to  all  exciting  reasons^  and  a  moral  sense  antecedent  to  all 
justifying  reasons/ The  pursuit  of  the  good  of  others, 
Hutcheson  holds,  is  prompted  by  an  instinct,  and  approved 
by  the  moral  sense.  "  Our  moral  sense  and  afiPections  deter- 
mine our  end,  but  reason  must  find  out  the  means/*  Burnet, 
on  the  other  hand,  holds  that  the  virtuous  man  follows  his 
benevolent  instincts  and  his  moral  sense,  simply  because 
reason  approves  of  them.  "We  deem  our  affections  and  our 
moral  sense  to  be  reasonable  affections,  and  a  reasonable  sense, 
from  their  prompting  us  to  the  same  conduct  which  reason 
approves  and  directs.  And  thus  reason  is  the  measure  of  the 
goodness  or  badness  of  our  affections  and  moral  sense,  and 
consequently  of  the  actions  flowing  from  them,  and  not  vice 
versa'*  What  makes  the  desire  of  public  happiness  a  reason- 
able end  is  the  truth  "  that  it  is  best  that  all  should  be 
happy.'^  "  If  any  one  asks,  Why  it  is  best,  I  would  answer 
him  as  T  would  do,  if  he  asked  me  why  four  is  more  than 
two:  It  is  self-evident.''  ''The  self-evident  truth,  'That 
it  is  in  itself  best  that  all  should  be  happy/  is  immediately 
perceivable  by  all  rational  natures."  We  do  not  possess 
Hutcheson's  reply,  but  surely  he  might  have  asked.  And  why 
should  I  pursue  what  is  best,  or  approve  of  the  pursuit  of 
what  is  best  ?  It  is  quite  conceivable  that  I  might  in- 
tellectually assent  to  the  proposition  '*  that  it  is  best  that  all 
should  be  happy,'^  without  having  any  desire  to  promote  their 
happiness,  or  experiencing  the  slightest  feeling  of  appro- 
bation, when  I  find  that  it  is  promoted.  But  if  men  were 
constituted  in  this  way,  would  morality,  as  we  understand  it, 
have  any  existence  ?  The  root  of  morals,  the  ultimate  induce- 
ment to  moral  conduct,  is  surely  to  be  discovered  in  those 
original  impulses  of  our  nature  which  urge  us  to  seek  the 
good  of  ourselves  and  of  others,  and  in  those  reHex  feelings 
which  approve  or  disapprove  of  actions,  according  as  thej  are 


2l6 


HUTCHESON. 


or  are  not  attended  by  thest  effects.  Our  emotions  are,  as  it 
vvere^  the  raw  material  of  morality.  At  the  same  time  it 
must  undoubtedly  be  granted  that  they  are  often  transformed 
by  the  action  of  reason  into  what  almost  assumes  the  character 
of  a  new  product.  And  perhaps  Hutcheson  and  some  other 
moralists,  while  rightly  insisting  on  the  ultimate  origin  of 
morality  in  the  emotional  part  of  human  nature,  have  not 
laid  sufficient  stress  on  the  office  of  the  reason  in  constantly 
directing,  co-ordinating,  and  adjusting  our  various  desires,  so 
as  best  to  attain  their  ultimate  ends.  Those  ends,  however, 
it  must  be  repeated,  are,  in  the  first  instance,  given  by  the 
self- regarding  and  sympathetic  affections,  largely  as  both 
such  ends  and  the  affections  by  which  they  are  suggested 
may  be  purified,  extended,  and  enlightened  by  the  subsequent 
operations  of  reason,  carrying  effects  up  to  their  causes, 
tracing  causes  to  their  effects,  and  comparing  the  several 
consequences  of  our  actions  as  well  as  the  relative  excellency 
and  efficacy  of  our  means. 

In  the  same  year  (1728)  in  which  Mr.  Burnet's  letters 
appeared  in  the  London  Journal,  John  Balguy,  who  has 
already  been  mentioned  in  connexion  with.  Shaftesbury,  pub- 
lished anonymously  a  tract  on  the  Foundation  of  Moral 
Goodness,^'  which,  like  Burnet's  letters,  was  designed  as  a 
refutation  of  Hutcheson's  theory  that  Virtue  has  its  ultimate 
origin  in  the  affections  and  the  moral  sense.  He  begins  with 
a  well-turned  compliment  to  Hutcheson,  but  soon  proceeds  to 
state  that  he  conceives  the  question  between  them  to  be  one 
of  the  utmost  gravity.  Balguy  is  a  follower  of  Clarke,  and 
thinks  that  he  is  investing  morality  with  a  more  exalted 
character  and  a  more  binding  force  by  laying  its  foundations, 
not  in  the  constitution  of  human  natare,  which  he  regards  as 
uncertain  and  relative,  but  in  the  truth  or  nature  of  things 
themselves/'  which  he  regards  as  fixed  and  absolute.  The 


INFLUENCE  OF  HIS  WRITINGS.  217 


reasons  of  things  and  the  relations  between  moral  agents'' 
(terms,  it  may  be  noticed,  which  are  sufficiently  vague) 
are  discoverable  by  the  faculty  of  Eeason^  and  are  generally  as 
plain  as  the  truths  of  Mathematics.  As  for  the  Affections, 
they  '^are  useful,  in  respect  of  human  nature,''  yet  they  are 
^'  by  no  means  essential  to  Virtue."  "  Nor  can  I  think,"  lie 
adds,  "  that  any  Instinct  has  a  place  in  its  constitution.  To 
speak  properly,  Reason  was  not  given  us  to  regulate  natural 
affection,  but  natural  affection  was  given  us  to  reinforce 
Reason,  and  make  it  more  prevalent.  The  inferior  principle 
must  be  intended  as  subservient  to  the  superior,  and  not  vice 
versa."  But,  however  clear  might  be  our  perception  of  the  ten- 
dency of  actions  or  of  the  relations  subsisting  between  rational 
or  sensitive  agents,  how  could  we  ascribe  the  epithets  right 
and  wrong,  moral  and  immoral,  either  to  our  acts  or  judg- 
ments, unless  we  had  exciting  afflictions  impelling  us  to 
pursue  certain  ends,  and  unless  these  ends,  and  the  means  by 
which  they  are  attainable,  were  the  objects  of  those  peculiar 
reflex  affections  which  we  call  moral  approbation  and  dis- 
approbation ?  We  perceive  a  purely  intellectual  truth,  but  we 
do  not  desire  it  or  approve  it.  And  surely  this  difference  is 
an  essential  one,  and  is  wholly  to  be  referred  to  the  fact  that 
moral  actions  and  moral  distinctions  originate  in  the  affections 
and  not  in  the  reason.  The  affections  and  the  reason  are 
both  undoubtedly  necessary  factors  in  morality,  but  the 
initiative  is  not  in  the  reason,  but  in  the  affections;  and  the 
true  relation  between  the  two  is  expressed,  not  by  saying 
that  the  affections  reinforce  the  reason,  but  by  saying  that  the 
reason  modifies,  controls,  and  co-ordinates  the  affections.  It 
may  be  remarked  that  Balguy  does  not,  as  Burnet  apparently 
does,  accept  Hutcheson's  practical  test  or  criterion  of  moral 
conduct.  Is  Virtue,"  he  asks,  ^'  no  otherwise  good  or 
amiable,  than  as  it  conduces  to  public  or  private  advantage  ? 


2l8 


HUTCHESON, 


Is  there  no  absolute  goodness  in  it  ?  Are  all  its  perfections 
relative  and  instrumental  ? One  would  have  been  g-lad  to 
see  some  instances  of  actions  which  are  "  absolutely  good/"* 
though  they  neither  contribute  to  public  nor  private  advan- 
tage, but  Balguy,  like  other  writers  of  the  same  school,  does 
not  condescend  to  supply  them.  In  the  following  year 
(1729),  there  appeared  a  "  Second  Part  of  the  Foundation  of 
Moral  Goodness/^  "  being  an  answer  to  certain  remarks  com- 
municated by  a  gentleman  to  the  author/"*  This  work  also  was 
published  anonymously.  Both  tracts  are  well  written,  and 
show  considerable  acuteness,  but,  on  the  main  point  at  issue, 
they  leave  Hutcheson,  I  think,  in  possession  of  the  field. 

Bishop  Butler's  Fifteen  Sermons,  which  supply  the  prin- 
cipal materials  for  forming'  an  estimate  of  his  opinions  on 
Ethics,  were  first  published  in  1726,  the  year  after  the  publi- 
cation of  Hutcheson's  two  first  treatises.  They  contain  no 
reference  to  Hutcheson,  or,  so  far  as  I  can  ascertain,  any 
allusion  to  him,  though,  as  I  have  already  pointed  out,  there 
is  a  very  close  afiinity  between  the  Conscience  of  Butler  and 
the Moral  Sense of  Shaftesbury  and  Hutcheson.  In  the 
Preface  to  the  Second  Edition  of  the  Sermons,  published  in 
1729,  which  contains  the  criticism  of  Shaftesbury,  already 
examined,  Hutcheson's  works  are  still  unnoticed.  But,  when 
Butler  published  the  Analogy  in  1786,  he  appended  two  short 
dissertations,  one  on  Personal  Identity,  the  other  on  the 
Nature  of  Virtue,  in  the  latter  of  which,  though  Hutcheson's 
name  is  not  expressly  mentioned,  his  system  was  evidently  in 
the  author's  mind  throughout.  Butler  agrees  with  Hutche- 
son in  recognizing  a  special  Moral  Faculty,  nor  does  he 
question  its  emotional  character.  At  the  same  time,  he 
rightly  suggests  that  there  is  a  rational  element  in  it.  He 
seems  indifferent,  whether  it  be  called  conscience,  moral 
reason,  moral  sense,  or  divine  reason.''    Whatever  the  name 


INFLUENCE  OF  HIS  WRITINGS,  219 


we  employ,  ^^it  is  manifest,  great  part  of  common  laiig'uage 
and  of  common  behaviour,  over  the  world,  is  formed  upon 
supposition  of  such  a  moral  faculty  ;  whether  considered  as  a 
sentiment  of  the  understanding-,  or  as  a  perception  of  the 
heart,  or,  which  seems  the  truth,  as  including  both/^ 
Hutcheson's  apparent  limitation  of  virtue  to  benevolence  is 
very  properly  criticized,  though,  perhaps,  his  position  is 
slightly  exaggerated.  "  It  deserves  to  be  considered,  whether 
men  are  more  at  liberty,  in  point  of  morals,  to  make  them- 
selves miserable  without  reason  than  to  make  other  people 
so ;  or  dissolutely  to  neglect  their  own  greater  good,  for  the 
sake  of  a  present  lesser  gratification,  than  tbey  are  to  neglect 
the  good  of  others  whom  nature  has  committed  to  their  care. 
It  should  seem  that  a  due  concern  about  our  own  interest  or 
happiness,  and  a  reasonable  endeavour  to  secure  and  promote 
it,  which  is,  I  think,  very  much  the  meaning  of  the  word 
prudence  in  our  language — it  should  seem  that  this  is  virtue, 
and  the  contrary  behaviour  faulty  and  blameable ;  since,  in 
the  calmest  way  of  reflection,  we  approve  of  the  first,  and 
condemn  the  other  conduct,  both  in  ourselves  and  others/* 
The  point,  however,  in  Hutcheson's  system  to  which  Butler 
takes  the  gravest  exception  is  his  identification  of  the  test 
or  criterion  of  moral  conduct  with  the  tendency  of  actions  to 
promote  the  general  good.  Butler  himself  confuses  the  moral 
criterion  with  the  moral  faculty;  in  other  words,  he  leaves 
the  Conscience  to  pronounce  its  judgments  arbitrarily,  with- 
out any  rule  to  guide  itself  by.  Man,"^'  he  says,  hath  the 
rule  of  right  within  ;  what  is  wanting  is  only  that  he  honestly 
attend  to  it.'''  ^  Hence  it  is  not  surprising  that  he  regards 
our  moral  nature  as  so  constituted  as  to  condemn  some  kinds 
of  acts  and  to  approve  other  kinds,  "  abstracted  from  all  con- 
sideration which  conduct  is  likeliest  to  produce  an  over- 
•  Sermon  III. 


220 


HUTCHESON. 


balance  of  happiness  or  misery/'  But  had  he  taken  any 
pains  to  analyze  the  instances  which  he  gives,  namely,  the 
condemnation  of  falsehood,  unprovoked  violence,  and  injustice, 
and  the  approbation  of  benevolence  to  some  preferably  to 
others,"  he  must  have  seen  that  all  kinds  of  evil  consequences 
would  follow,  if  we  did  not  condemn  the  one  and  approve  the 
other.  Men,  of  course,  are  constantly  approving*  or  con- 
demning acts,  without  expressly  thinking  of  their  effects  on 
the  general  happiness,  and  it  is  most  desirable  that  we  should, 
in  practice,  be  able  to  have  recourse  to  minor  or  intermediate 
rules  of  conduct,  such  as  those  of  veracity,  fidelity,  justice, 
&c.  'y  but  the  question  is  whether,  on  reflection,  the  moralist, 
or  indeed  any  normally-constituted  man,  ever  approves  of  any 
action  which  he  believes  likely  to  bring  about  more  harm 
than  good,  and  whether  any  clearer,  more  intelligible,  and 
more  universally  applicable  principle  of  conduct  can  be  pro- 
posed than  that  of  promoting  the  general  welfare.  To  make 
the  conscience,  as  Butler  does,  a  law  to  itself,  is  to  substitute 
for  a  general  and  reasonable  rule  of  conduct  a  particular  and 
arbitrary  one. 

This  Dissertation  contains  a  curious  misrepresentation,  of 
course  wholly  unintentional,  of  the  theory  which  it  is  at- 
tacking. It  is  certain,^''  the  author  says,  ^Hhat  some  of  the 
most  shocking  instances  of  injustice,  adultery,  murder,  perjury, 
and  even  of  persecution,  may,  in  many  supposable  cases,  not 
have  the  appearance  of  being  likely  to  produce  an  overbalance 
of  misery  in  the  present  state ;  perhaps  sometimes  may  have 
the  contrary  appearance.'^  But  no  moralist  has  ever  delibe- 
rately maintained  that  the  test  of  consequences  is  a  sufficient 
one,  when  applied  to  individual  actions,  considered  wholly  in 
themselves;  actions  must  be  tested  as  a  class,  and  we  must 
consider  what  would  hapj)en,  not  if  we  did  this  or  that  act, 
but  if  acts  of  this  or  that  kind  were  generally  prevalent. 


INFLUENCE  OF  HIS  VVRFriNGS.  221 


Mr.  Sidg-vvick  ^  thinks  that  we  may  take  Batler^s  Disser- 
tation as  the  earliest  treatise  in  the  development  of  English 
ethics,  in  which  what  were  afterwards  called  ^  utilitarian '  and 
'  intuitional '  morality  were  first  formally  opposed/'  The 
passage  from  Balguy,  quoted  on  pp.  217-18,  is  sufficient  to  show 
that  this  statement  requires  some  modification.  But  Mr. 
Sidgwick  is  quite  right,  I  think,  when  he  draws  a  distinction 
between  the  different  points  of  view  with  which  Butler 
regards  the  relation  of  virtue  to  happiness  in  the  Sermons 
and  the  Dissertation  respectively.  In  the  Sermons,*'  he 
says,  ^'  Butler  seems  to  treat  conscience  and  calm  benevolence 
as  permanently  allied  thougli  distinct  principles,  but  in  the 
Dissertation  on  Virtue  he  maintains  that  the  conduct  dictated 
by  conscience  will  often  differ  widely  from  that  to  which 
mere  regard  for  the  production  of  happiness  would  prompt/' 
Indeed  there  are  occasional,  though,  it  must  be  acknowledged, 
exceptional  passages  in  the  Sermons,  in  which  Butler  seems 
to  adopt  the  benevolent,  or,  as  we  should  now  call  it,  with  a 
slight  difference  of  connotation,  the  utilitarian  theory  of 
morals,  without  any  qualification  or  reservation.  Such  are 
the  following.  '^Tliat  mankind  is  a  community,  that  we  all 
stand  in  a  relation  to  each  other,  that  there  is  a  public  end 
and  interest  of  society  which  each  particular  is  obliged  to 
promote,  is  the  sum  of  morals." '  It  is  manifest  that 
nothing  can  be  of  consequence  to  mankind  or  any  creature, 
but  happiness.  This  then  is  all  which  any  person  can,  in 
strictness  of  speaking,  be  said  to  have  a  right  to.  We  can, 
therefore,  owe  no  man  anything,  but  only  to  further  and 
promote  his  happiness,  according  to  our  abilities.  And,  there- 
fore, a  disposition  and  endeavour  to  do  good  to  all  with  whom 
we  have  to  do,  in  the  degree  and  manner  which  the  different 

*  Essay  on  Ethics  iu  the  EncyclopcBdia  Britannica, 
3  Sermon  IX, 


222 


HUTCHESON. 


relations  we  stand  in  to  them  require,  is  a  discharge  of  all  the 
obligations  we  are  under  to  them/"*  One  of  the  very 
reasons,  perhaps,  which  has  made  this  moralist  so  popular  is 
the  fact  that,  from  the  want  of  sj^stem  and  consistency  in  his 
writings,  he  is  able  to  reflect  so  many  phases  of  ethical 
sentiment.^ 

The  most  elaborate  criticism  of  Hutcheson's  ethical  theories 
was  that  offered  by  Dr.  Richard  Price  in  his  Review  of  the 
Principal  Questions  in  Morals,  first  published  in  1757,  but 
considerably  altered  in  the  third  edition,  published  in  1787. 
Price  proceeds  generally  on  the  same  grounds  as  Burnet  and 
Balguy,  but  the  intrinsic  value  of  his  work  is  incomparably 
greater  than  that  of  theirs.  Instead  of  being  a  mere  criticism 
of  another  author's  opinions,  it  becomes,  as  the  argument 
advances,  a  substantive  work  on  ethical  theory  of  very  con- 
siderable merit.  In  fact,  of  the  various  writings  of  what  has 
been  called  the  *^  Rational  School "  of  English  Moralists 
Price's  treatise  is  undoubtedly  the  most  important,  and  it  is 
specially  interesting  on  account  of  the  close  similarity  which 
obtains  between  many  of  the  theories  and  even  expressions 
contained  in  it  and  those  which  subsequently  became  so  cele- 
brated in  the  Practical  Philosophy  of  Kant.  The  main 
positions  propounded  in  this  work  may  be  summed  up  under 
three  heads.  First,  actions  are  in  themselves  right  or  wrong. 
What  is  meant  by  the  expression  in  themselves"  is  by  no 
means  clear ;  for  it  can  hardly  mean  that  actions  are  right  or 
wrong  irrespectively  of  the  circumstances  under  which  they 

*  Sermon  XII. 

5  Even  in  his  later  work,  the  Analogy,  there  occurs  a  passage  as  distinctly 
utilitarian  in  its  character,  as  could  well  be  written.  "  God  mstructs  us 
by  experience  (for  it  is  not  reason,  but  experience,  which  instructs  us) 
what  good  or  bad  consequences  will  follow  from  our  acting  in  such  and 
such  manners ;  and  by  this  He  directs  us  how  we  are  to  behave  our- 
selves."   Pt.  II.,  ch.  5. 


INFLUENCE  OF  HIS  WRITINGS.  223 


are  performed.  From  a  comparison  of  various  passages,  it 
would  seem  as  if  Price  intended  by  this  phrase  to  exclude  all 
reference  to  consequences  as  well  as  to  intimate  that  the  per- 
ceptions of  right  and  wrong  in  actions  are  identical  in  the 
case  of  all  intelligent  beings.  The  perception  of  right  and 
wrong,  he  may  be  taken  as  saying,  does  not  depend  on  any 
special  constitution  of  human  nature,  nor^  in  pronouncing  any 
action  to  be  right  or  wrong,  have  we  any  occasion  to  trace 
consequences  or  to  look  beyond  the  action  itself.  The  second 
position  is  that  right  and  wrong  are  simple  ideas,  incapable 
of  analj^sis  or  definition ;  in  other  words,  they  cannot  be 
resolved,  as  so  many  previous  moralists,  including  Shaftes- 
bury and  Hutcheson,  had  resolved  them,  into  ideas  of  good 
and  evil.  "  If  we  will  consider  why  it  is  right  to  conform 
ourselves  to  the  relations  in  which  persons  and  objects  stand 
to  us;  we  shall  find  ourselves  obliged  to  terminate  our  views 
in  a  simple  perception,  and  something  ultimatel}^  approved 
for  which  no  justifying  reason  can  be  assigned.''^  Thirdly, 
these  simple  ideas  of  Eight  and  AYrong  are  perceived  im- 
mediately by  the  intuitive  power  of  the  Reason  or  Under- 
standing, terms  which  he  employs  indifferently,  just  in  the 
same  way  that  colour  is  perceived  by  the  eye  or  sound  by  the 
ear.  Hutcheson  also  regards  our  moral  perceptions  as  imme- 
diate, but  Price  maintains  against  him,  in  an  elaborate  course  of 
argument,  that  the  faculty  thus  immediately  perceiving  moral 
qualities  is  the  Reason,  and  not  a  Sense.  By  the  Reason  he, 
of  course,  means,  as  Cudworth  does,  when  using  the  word  in 
the  same  connexion,  the  so-called  intuitive,  and  not  the 
discursive  Reason  or  faculty  of  comparison.  As  for  the 
emotions,  they  are  the  source  of  all  vicious  actions,  though, 
when  enlightened  by  reason,  they  may  also  aid  in  the  pro- 
duction of  virtuous  conduct.    The  author  fails  to  see  that  the 

•  Price's  Review,  &c,,  ch.  6. 


224 


HUTCHESON. 


emotions  are,  in  the  last  analysis^,  the  original  source  of  all 
conduct,  be  it  virtuous  or  vicious. 

Two  years  after  the  appearance  of  Price's  work,  Dr.  John 
Taylor  of  Norwich,^  a  Presbyterian  minister  of  considerable 
reputation  in  his  day,  published  a  short  pamphlet,  entitled 

An  Examination  of  the  Scheme  of  Morality  advanced  by 
Dr.  Hutcheson/^  Dr.  Taylor  exaggerates,  and  indeed  does 
not  very  clearly  understand,  Hutcheson's  position.  His  own 
theory  seems  to  c©incide  pretty  nearly  with  that  of  Price, 
though  the  Reason,  which  is  ^*  the  principal  in  the  affair  of 
virtue/*  appears  to  be  the  discursive,  and  not,  as  in  the 
systems  of  Price  and  Cudworth,  the  intuitive  reason.  Reason 
not  only  devises  the  means,  but  proposes  the  end.  Virtue 
consists,  not  in  following  any  instincts,  or  in  aiming  at  any 
consequences,  but  in  acting  faithfully  according  to  what  we 
know  of  the  true  natures  of  objects,  persons,  things,  actions, 
relations,  and  circumstances  duly  considered  and  attended  to.^^ 
A  "  sketch  of  his  own  system,  in  which  he  borrows  largely 
from  WoUaston  and  Price,  was  published  by  Taylor  in  1760. 

Passing  from  Hutcheson's  critics  to  those  of  his  successors, 
in  the  line  of  English  Moralists,  on  whom  he  may  be  sup- 
posed to  have  exerted  any  influence,  the  first  name  which 
arrests  our  attention  is  that  of  Hume.  That  part  of  Hume's 
Treatise  of  Unman  Nature  (vol.  iii.),  which  is  concerned  with 
morals,  was  first  published  in  1740.  The  Enquiry  concerning 
the  Principles  of  Morals,  which  is  at  once  more  popular  and 
more  matured  than  the  earlier  work,  appeared  in  1751.  Both 
these  writings  betray  the  most  evident  marks  of  Hutcheson's 
influence.^    The  very  first  section  of  the  Book  on  Morals,  in 

7  Dr.  Taylor's  descendants  are  frequently  mentioned  in  Orabb  Robin- 
son's diary, 

^  In  saying  this,  1  do  not,  of  course,  mean  to  imply  that  they  were  not 


INFLUENCE  OF  HIS  WRITINGS.  225 


the  Treatise,  is  devoted  to  show  that  ^'  Moral  distinctions  are  not 
derived  from  Reason."  "  Morals  excite  passions,  and  produce 
or  prevent  actions.  Reason  of*  itself  is  utterly  impotent  in 
this  particular.^^  "  Moral  distinctions  are  not  the  offsprin^j;" 
of  reason.  Reason  is  wholl}^  inactive,  and  can  never  be  the 
source  of  so  active  a  principle  as  conscience,  or  a  sense  of 
morals. To  the  admirable  passages  in  the  Enquiry  in  which 
Hume  assigns  to  reason  and  sentiment  tlKMr  respective  parts 
in  determining  or  estimating  moral  condu(;t,  I  have  already 
referred  in  my  account  of  Shaftesbury.^  I  shall  here  quote  a 
few  sentences,  which  will  serve  both  to  illustrate  his  position 
and  also  to  show  his  superiority,  in  respect  of  clearness  and 
force  of  expression,  to  most  of  his  predecessors  in  this  branch 
of  philosophy.  I  am  apt  to  suspect  ....  that  reason  and 
sentiment  concur  in  almost  all  moral  determinations  and 
conclusions.  The  final  sentence,  it  is  probable,  which  pro- 
nounces characters  and  actions  amiable  or  odious,  praiseworthy 
or  blameable  ;  that  which  stamps  on  them  the  mark  of  honour 
or  infamy,  approbation  or  censure  ;  that  which  renders  morality 
an  active  principle,  and  constitutes  virtue  our  happiness,  and 
vice  our  misery  :  it  is  probable,  I  say,  <"hat  this  final  sentence 
depends  on  some  internal  sense  or  feeling,  which  nature  has 
made  universal  in  the  whole  species.  For  what  else  can  have 
an  influence  of  this  nature  ?  But  in  order  to  pave  the  way 
for  such  a  sentiment,  and  give  a  proper  discernment  of  its 
object,  it  is  often  necessary,  we  find,  that  much  reasoning 
should  precede,  that  nice  distinctions  be  made,  just  con- 
clusions  drawn,  distant  comparisons   formed,  complicated 

also  largely  influenced  by  Shaftesbury,  whose  writings  would,  in  some 
respects,  probably  commend  themselves  to  Hume  more  than  those  of 
Hutcheson.  Minor  traces  of  Shaftesbury's  influence  are  to  be  found  in 
Hume's  peculiar  use  of  the  words  "taste"  and  "relish,"  and  in  hi» 
frequent  comparisons  of  moral  with  natural  beauty. 
«  See  p.  166. 

Q 


226 


HUTCHESON, 


relations  examined,  and  general  facts  fixed  and  ascertained/'  ^ 
In  the  Treatise,  Hume  calls  this  sentiment  a  moral  sense/"* 
and  devotes  his  second  section  to  showing  that  "  moral 
distinctions  are  derived  from  a  moral  sense/'  But  in  the 
Enciuiry ,  so  far  as  I  can  recollect,  this  phrase  never  occurs, 
and  indeed,  from  the  circuitous  expressions  which  he  some- 
times employs,  it  would  seem  as  if  he  purposely  avoided  it. 
I  think  it  is  tolerably  plain  that,  instead  of  recognizing  a 
distinct  and  original  faculty  in  the  Moral  Sense/^  Hume 
regarded  moral  approbation  and  disapprobation  as  arising 
gimply  from  the  satisfaction  or  disappointment  of  our  sym- 
pathetic feelings.  Thus,  he  speaks  of  conduct  gaining  my 
approbation  by  touching  my  humanity and  of  humanity 
making  a  distinction  in  favour  of  those  actions  which  are 
useful  and  beneficial."  ^  And,  at  the  end  of  the  Treatise  on 
Htman  Nature,  he  says  expressly :  ^'  Those  who  resolve  the 
sense  of  morals  into  original  instincts  of  the  human  mind 
may  defend  the  cause  o£  virtue  with  sufl^icient  authority;  but 
want  the  advantage  which  those  possess,  who  account  for  that 
sense  by  an  extensive  sympathy  with  mankind. "  I  suppose 
the  approbation  and  disapprobation  which  we  accord  to  our 
own  acts  would  be  explained,  on  this  theory,  by  supposing  us 
to  transfer  to  ourselves  the  feelings  with  which  we  have  been 
accustomed  to  regard  the  acts  of  others. 

Hume  agreeing  with  Hutcheson  in  regarding  the  final  act  of 
moral  approbation  as  emotional,  it  follows  almost  as  a  matter 
of  course  that  he  agrees  with  him  also  in  referring  the 
suggestion  of  our  ultimate  ends  to  the  desires,  and  not  to  the 
reason.  *^  It  appears  evident  that  the  ultimate  ends  of  human 
actions  can  never,  in  any  case,  be  accounted  for  by  reason, 
but  recommend  themselves  entirely  to  the  sentiments  and 

*  Enquiry,  &c.,  Section  1. 

^  Enquiry,  Section  I.,  Appendix  I, 


INFLUENCE  OF  HIS  WRITINGS.  227 


affections  of  mankind^  without  any  dependence  on  the  in- 
tellectual faculties.  Ask  a  man,  why  he  uses  exercises ;  he 
will  answer,  because  he  desires  to  keep  his  health.  If  you 
then  inquire,  why  he  desires  health,  he  will  readily  reply, 
because  sickness  is  painful.  If  you  push  your  inquirie 
farther,  and  desire  a  reason  why  he  hates  pain,  it  is  impossible 
he  can  ever  give  any.  This  is  an  ultimate  end,  and  is  never 
referred  to  any  other  object/'" 

The  test  or  criterion  of  actions,  we  have  seen,  is,  with 
Hutcheson,  their  tendency  to  promote  or  retard  the  public 
good.  The  greatest  happiness  of  the  greatest  number  "  is 
the  formula  by  which  he  expresses  the  end  which  the  virtuous 
agent  ought  to  have  in  view.  Hume,  though  he  devotes  a 
much  larger  proportion  of  his  treatise  to  a  discussion  of  the 
qualities  which  we  praise  and  blame  in  actions,  proposes  no 
equally  definite  rule  of  conduct.  The  circumstance  common 
to  all  the  objects  of  our  approbation,  he  conceives,  is  the  fact 
that  they  are  regarded  as  being  either  useful  or  agreeable 
either  to  ourselves  or  others.  A  little  reflection  will  show 
that  this  statement  admits  of  a  much  more  simple  expression. 
The  agreeable  is  that  which  affords  immediate  pleasure.  The 
useful  is  that  which,  in  its  ultimate  effects,  either  diminishes 
pain  or  augments  pleasure.  Directly  or  indirectly,  they  both 
contribute  to  the  same  result.  The  one  circumstance,  there- 
fore, which  merits  approbation,  might  be  described  as  the  fact 
of  conducing  to  the  happiness  either  of  ourselves  or  of  others. 
But,  in  those  very  numerous  cases  where  our  own  happiness 
comes  into  competition  with  that  of  our  fellow-creatures, 
Hume's  system  appears  to  offer  no  guidance  other  than  the 
predominant  sentiment  at  the  moment  of  action.  As,  how- 
ever, according  to  the  genius  of  his  philosophy,  that  sentiment 
ought  to  be  a  sympathetic  one,  the  virtuous  man  would 
*  Enquiry,  Appendix  1. 

Q  2 


228 


HUTCHESON. 


always  be  predisposed  to  sacrifice  himself  to  others  rather 
than  others  to  himself. 

The  prudential  virtues  are  fully  recognized  in  Hume^s 
scheme  of  Morals.  The  reason  why  we  admire  them,  and 
why,  therefore,  we  account  them  virtues,  is  that  they  promote 
the  happiness  of  their  possessors,  which  is  not  a  spectacle 
entirely  indifferent  to  us,^^  but  which,  "  like  sunshine  or  the 
prospect  of  well-cultivated  plains,  communicates  a  secret  joy 
and  satisfaction.'-'^  The  fact  that  these  qualities  are  esteemed 
and  praised  thus  affords  a  new  illustration  of  the  sympathetic 
character  of  human  nature. 

Like  Hutcheson  and  Butler,  Hume  does  not  recognize  any 
original  principles  of  malevolence.  "  Absolute,  unprovoked, 
disinterested  malice  has  never,  perhaps,  place  in  any  human 
breast.^'  ^ 

There  is  one  respect  in  which  Hume's  treatment  of  morals 
marks  so  great  an  advance  as  that  of  his  predecessors,  that,  even 
in  this  brief  notice,  it  ought  not  to  be  passed  over  in  silence. 
In  drawing  attention  to  the  wide  variation  of  moral  sentiment 
existing  in  different  ages  and  countries,  and  by  his  inductive 
investigation  of  the  acts  and  qualities  which  men  approve,  he 
initiated  that  comparative  and  historical  method  of  treating 
moral  and  social  questions  which  has  since  thrown  so  much 
light  on  the  origin  and  growth  both  of  morality  and  society. 
Preceding  moralists  (though  we  ought,  to  a  certain  extent,  to 
except  Locke)  took  the  average  men  of  their  own  age  and 
country  as  typical  of  all  men.  Hume  recognized  that,  though 
the  fundamental  constitution  of  human  nature  is  the  same,  all 
the  world  over,  it  may  be  affected  by  such  differences  of  ex- 
ternal circumstances  as  to  assume  the  most  various  forms  and 
result  in  the  most  divergent  sentiments.    This  diversity  in 

*  Enquiry,  Section  6. 

•  Section  5. 


INFLUENCE  OF  HIS  WRITINGS,  229 


the  acts  and  opinions  of  men  does  not,  however,  prevent  the 
moralist  from  determining*  what,  under  any  given  circum- 
stances is  the  best  course  of  action. 

Adam  Smith,  who  had  been  a  pupil,  and  was  subsequently, 
after  a  brief  interval,  during  which  the  chair  was  occupied  by 
a  Mr.  Thomas  Craigie,  the  successor  of  Hutcheson  at  Glasgow, 
published  his  Theory  of  Moral  Sentiments  in  1759.  In  this 
work,  he  speaks  in  highly  laudatory  terms  of  his  old  master. 
After  enumerating  various  authors  who  have  made  virtue  to 
consist  in  benevolence,  he  says  :  "  But  of  all  the  patrons  of 
this  system,  ancient  or  modern,  the  late  Dr.  Hutcheson  was 
undoubtedly,  beyond  all  comparison,  the  most  acute,  the  most 
distinct,  the  most  philosophical,  and,  what  is  of  the  greatest 
consequence  of  all,  the  soberest  and  most  judicious.'^  ^  This 
amiable  system  did  not,  however,  wholly  commend  itself 
to  Adam  Smith  himself.  While  according  the  highest  place 
to  the  supreme  virtue  of  beneficence,^'  he  pleads  that  the 
inferior  qualities  of  prudence,  vigilance,  temperance,  economy, 
industry,  and  the  like,  which  are  apprehended  to  deserve 
the  esteem  and  approbation  of  everybody,'^  should  at  least  be 
admitted  into  the  rank  of  virtues. 

In  Part  YII.,  Sect.  3,  Ch.  3,  Adam  Smith  expressly 
examines  Hutcheson's  theory  of  a  Moral  Sense,  and  rejects  it 
as  a  superfluous  assumption.  Moral  approbation,  he  main- 
tains, is  not  the  result  of  a  peculiar  sentiment,  answering  one 
particular  purpose  and  no  other,  but  may  be  fully  accounted 
for  by  the  familiar  feeling  of  Sympathy.  We  must  not 
indeed  limit  sympathy,  as  Hume  did,  to  sympathy  with  the 
happiness  of  those  who  are  affected  by  the  action.  This  is 
included,  but  it  is  only  one  of  the  directions  which,  in 
experiencing  the  feeling  of  approbation,  our  sympathy  takes, 
*^  When  we  approve  of  any  character  or  action,  the  sentiments 
«  Part  VII.,  Sect.  2,  ch.  3. 


230 


HUTCHESON. 


which  we  feel  are  derived  from  four  sources,  which  are,  in 
some  respects,  different  from  one  another.  First,  we  sympa- 
thize with  the  motives  of  the  agent  j  secondly,  we  enter  into 
the  gratitude  of  those  who  receive  the  henefit  of  his  actions ; 
thirdly,  we  observe  that  his  conduct  has  been  agreeable  to  the 
general  rules  by  which  those  two  sympathies  generally  act ; 
and,  last  of  all,  when  we  consider  such  actions,  as  making  a 
part  of  a  system  of  behaviour  which  tends  to  promote  the 
happiness  either  of  the  individual  or  of  the  society,  they  appear 
to  derive  a  beauty  from  this  utility,  not  unlike  that  which  we 
ascribe  to  any  well-contrived  machine/^  The  approbation  we 
bestow  upon  our  own  acts  arises  from  a  kind  of  inverted 
sympathy.  We  place  ourselves  in  the  position  of  an  im- 
partial spectator,  and,  viewing  our  own  conduct  with  his 
eyes  and  from  his  station/'  we  "  enter  into  and  sympathize 
with  the  sentiments  and  motives  which  influenced  it."  "  We 
can  never  survey  our  own  sentiments  and  motives,  we  can 
never  form  any  judgment  concerning  them,  unless  we  remove 
ourselves,  as  it  were,  from  our  own  natural  station,  and 
endeavour  to  view  them  as  at  a  certain  distance  from  us.  But 
we  can  do  this  in  no  other  way  than  by  endeavouring  to  view 
them  with  the  eyes  of  other  people,  or  as  other  people  are 
likely  to  view  them.'' These  elaborate  explanations  seem  to 
be  all  open  to  the  objection  that  the  processes  described,  when 
they  occur  at  all,  precede  the  act  of  approbation,  which  is 
consequent  upon  them,  and  not  identical  with  them.  To 
sympathize  with  a  man,  to  enter  into  his  feelings  and  motives, 
generally  leads  to  our  approving  of  his  conduct,  but  surely 
the  two  emotions  are  quite  distinct.  Hutch eson's  conception 
of  a  Moral  Sense,  as  an  original  and  independent  part  of 
human  nature,  involves  a  needless  multiplication  of  principles, 
besides  being  open  to  other  objections  which  have  been  already 
7  Part  III.,  ch.  1. 


INFLUENCE  OF  HIS  WRITINGS,  231 


stated  ill  the  course  of  this  work,  but  the  supposition  which 
seems  best  to  accord  with  facts  is  that  we  are  capable  of 
acquiring-  a  reflex  feeling",  gradually  formed  by  the  inter- 
action and  combination  of  the  various  sympathetic  and  self- 
regarding  emotions,  and  constantly  enlightened  b}^  the  Reason, 
to  which  we  may  not  inappropriately  give  the  specific  name  of 
the  Moral  Faculty,  the  Conscience,  or  even,  providing  we 
bear  in  mind  its  origin,  the  Moral  Sense.  It  maj'  be  re- 
marked that,  though  Adam  Smith  rejects  Hutcheson's  theory 
of  the  Moral  Sense,  it  is  pretty  plain  that  his  own  theory  of 
Sympathy  is  intimately  connected  with  the  benevolent  aspect 
under  which  Hutcheson  had  attempted  to  represent  what 
others  have  so  often  regarded  as  the  austere  forms  of  Virtue 
and  Dut3^ 

It  is  almost  superfluous  to  say  that  Adam  Smith  agrees 
with  Hutcheson  and  Shaftesbury  in  regarding  the  benevolent 
feelings  as  incapable  of  analysis  into  self-love,  or,  to  adopt  his 
own  expression,  as  "  original  passions  of  human  nature/"*  ^  The 
position,  also  common  to  him  with  them,  that  our  ultimate 
ends,  and,  consequently,  our  first  impulses  to  right  action,  are 
given,  not  by  reason,  but  by  the  affections,  is  stated  with  great 
force  and  perspicuity.  "  Though  reason  is  undoubtedly  the 
source  of  the  general  rules  of  morality,  and  of  all  the  moral 
judgments  which  we  form  by  means  of  them,  it  is  altogether 
absurd  and  unintelligible  to  suppose  that  the  first  perceptions 
of  right  and  wrong*  can  be  derived  from  reason,  even  in  those 
particular  cases  upon  the  experience  of  which  the  general 

rules  are  formed  Reason  may  show  that  this  object 

is  the  means  of  obtaining  some  other  which  is  naturally  either 
pleasing  or  displeasing,  and  in  this  manner  may  render  it 
either  agreeable  or  disagreeable,  for  the  sake  of  something  else. 
But  nothing  can  be  agreeable  or  disagreeable  for  its  own  sake^ 
8  Part  I.,  Sect.  1,  cli.  1. 


232 


HUTCHESON, 


which  is  not  rendered  such  by  immediate  sense  and  feeling*. 
If  virtue,  therefore,  in  every  particular  instance,  necessarily 
pleases  for  its  own  sake,  and  if  vice  as  certainly  displeases  the 
mind,  it  cannot  be  reason,  but  immediate  sense  and  feeling, 
which  in  this  manner  reconciles  us  to  the  one  and  alienates  us 
from  the  other/''  "Dr.  Hutcheson/'  he  adds,  "had  the  merit 
of  being  the  first  who  distinguished,  with  any  degree  of  pre- 
cision, in  what  respect  all  moral  distinctions  may  be  said  to 
arise  from  reason,  and  in  what  respect  they  are  founded  upon 
immediate  sense  and  feeling."  ^ 

Adam  Smith  curiously  adopts  two  criteria  of  actions,  their 
propriety  and  their  merit.  "  The  sentiment  or  affection  of  the 
heart,  from  which  any  action  proceeds,  and  upon  which  its 
whole  virtue  or  vice  must  ultimately  depend,  may  be  con- 
sidered under  two  different  aspects,  or  in  two  different  rela- 
tions :  first,  in  relation  to  the  cause  which  excites  it,  or  the 
motive  which  gives  occasion  to  it;  and,  secondly,  in  relation 
to  the  end  which  it  proposes,  or  the  effect  which  it  tends  to 
produce.  In  the  suitableness  or  unsuitableness,  in  the  pro- 
portion or  disproportion,  which  the  affection  seems  to  bear  to 
the  cause  or  object  which  excites  it,  consists  the  propriety  or 
impropriety,  the  decency  or  ungracefulness,  of  the  consequent 
action.  In  the  beneficial  or  hurtful  effects  which  the  affection 
aims  at,  or  tends  to  produce,  consists  the  merit  or  demerit  of 
the  action,  the  qualities  by  which  it  is  entitled  to  reward,  or 
is  deserving  of  punishment.''''  ^  It  does  not  require  much 
penetration  to  see  that  the  two  criteria,  here  proposed,  really 
coincide.  For,  how  are  we  to  determine  "the  suitableness  or 
unsuitableness,  the  proportion  or  disproportion,  which  the 
affection  seems  to  bear  to  the  cause  or  object  which  excites  it,^' 
except  by  some  external  signs,  and  what  external  signs  are 

9  Part  YII.,  Sect.  3,  ch.  2. 
*  Part  I.,  Sect.  1,  ch.  3. 


INFLUENCE  OF  HIS  WRITINGS.  233 


there,  on  which  we  can  place  any  reliance,  except  the  '^effects 
which  the  affection  aims  at ?  A  man  experiences^  say,  the 
affection  of  resentment.  The  affection  was  excited  by  an  act 
of  injustice,  and  it  issues  in  an  act  of  punishment.  Now,  if 
we  approve  of  the  punishment,  its  merit,  according  to  this 
theory,  consists  in  the  fact  that  it  \^  beneficial ;  its  propriety  in 
the  fact  that  the  feeling  of  resentment,  from  which  it  pro- 
ceeds, is  suitable  proportional  to  the  act  of  injustice  which 
excited  it.  But  how  are  we  to  determine  the  suitability  or 
proportion  of  the  feeling,  except  by  the  acts  in  which  it 
results  or  to  which,  by  gestures  or  other  external  signs,  it 
points  ?  It  may  be  true  that,  at  first,  the  agent  exhibited 
more  or  less  of  the  feeling  of  resentment  than  we  considered 
to  be  justified  by  the  circumstances,  or  than  guided  his  sub- 
sequent action.  But  then,  if  we  condemn  the  feeling  at  this 
stage,  it  is  simply  because  of  the  conduct  which  would  result 
from  it,  were  it  at  once  to  be  acted  upon.  And  suppose  it  to 
be  said  that  we  often  praise  the  man  who  exhibits  consistently 
the  same  degree  of  feeling  rather  than  the  man  whose  feelings 
oscillate,  even  though  the  same  conduct  ultimately  results  in 
both  cases,  the  reason  surely  is  that,  in  the  one  case,  we  can 
always  calculate  on  a  right  course  of  action,  whereas,  in  the 
other,  the  character  of  the  action  may  vary  according  to  the 
particular  moment  at  which  it  happens  to  be  performed.  To 
estimate  the  relation  of  feelings,  at  least  of  other  persons* 
feelings,  to  their  exciting  causes,  in  any  other  way  than  by 
the  actions  which  they  produce  or  by  the  gestures  or  other 
signs,  indicative  of  approaching  action,  which  they  exhibit, 
seems  to  me  impossible.  Thus,  when  closely  examined,  Adam 
Smith's  two  criteria  can  be  reduced  to  the  one  criterion  proposed 
by  Hutcheson,  that  is,  as  it  was  afterwards  called,  the  utili- 
tarian test  or  standard  of  conduct. 

Reid  and  Stewart  recurred,  though  with  various  qualifica- 


234 


HUTCHESON. 


tions,  to  the  ethical  teaching  represented  by  Cudworth^  Clarke, 
and  Price.  They  do  not  object  to  the  expression  ^'  Moral 
Sense/'  provided  that  faculty  be  understood  to  be  not  simply 
emotional,  but  the  source  of*  ultimate  moral  truths.  Indeed, 
as  Sir  William  Hamilton  says,  the  Moral  Sense  or  Moral 
Faculty  of  these  writers  does  not  differ  essentially  from  the 
"Practical  Reason "'^  of  Kant.  They  always  speak  respect- 
fully of  Hutcheson,  but  their  ethical  theories  can  hardly  be 
said  to  have  been  influenced  by  his.  On  their  relation  to  him, 
in  the  sphere  of  mental  philosophy,  I  spoke  in  the  last 
chapter. 

Dr.  Thomas  Brown,  once  a  highly  popular  writer,  though 
now  seldom  read  except  by  professed  students  of  the  History 
of  Philosophy,  agrees  with  Hutcheson's  theory  of  the  Moral 
Sense,  so  far  as  to  maintain  that  "  we  come  into  existence 
with  certain  susceptibilities  of  emotion,  in  consequence  of 
which  it  is  impossible  for  us,  in  after-life,  but  for  the  influence 
of  counteracting  circumstances,  momentary  or  permanent,  not 
to  be  pleased  with  the  contemplation  of  certain  actions,  as 
soon  as  they  have  become  fully  known  to  us,  and  not  to  have 
feelings  of  disgust  on  the  contemplation  of  certain  other 
actions."" 2  He  objects,  however,  to  the  expression  "Moral 
Sense,''  as  implying  more  than  emotions,  and  suggesting  the 
analogy  of  the  perceptions  or  sensations  attendant  on  the 
exercise  of  our  external  senses.  "  The  moral  emotions,''  he 
rightly  says,  "  are  more  akin  to  love  or  hate,  than  to  percep- 
tion or  judgment."  His  own  account  of  the  part  taken  by 
the  "moral  principle''  in  our  estimate  of  actions  seems 
eminently  just.  "  It  is  not  the  moral  principle  which  sees 
the  agent,  and  all  the  circumstances  of  his  action,  or  which 
sees  the  happiness  or  misery  that  has  flowed  from  it;  but 
when  these  are  seen,  and  all  the  motives  of  the  agent  divined, 

*  Lectures  on  the  Philosophy  of  the  Human  Mind,  Lecture  Ixxiv, 


INFLUENCE  OF  HIS  WRITINGS.  235 


it  is  the  moral  principle  of  our  nature  which  then  affords  the 
emotion  that  may  afterwards,  in  our  conception,  be  added  to 
these  ideas  derived  from  other  sources,  and  form  with  them 
compound  notions  of  all  the  varieties  of  actions  that  are  classed 
by  us  as  forms  of  virtue  or  vice/-'  ^  On  the  vague  and  loose 
way  in  which  Hutcheson  employs  the  word  "  sense I  have 
already  had  occasion  to  speak.  But  his  conception  of  the 
Moral  Sense/'  I  take  it,  is  more  analogous  to  that  of  the 
*^  Public  Sense/'  that  is,  "  our  determination  to  be  pleased 
with  the  happiness  of  others,  and  to  be  uneasy  at  their 
misery,"  *  than  it  is  to  that  of  the  external  senses  ;  in  other 
words,  though  he  does  not  distinguish  with  sufficient  precision 
between  emotions  and  ideas,  his  conception  of  the  Moral 
Sense  is  more  that  of  an  emotional  than  of  a  perceptive 
faculty.  His  system  would,  howev^cr,  have  been  far  clearer, 
as  well  as  truer  to  facts,  had  he  more  carefully  discriminated 
between  the  ultimate  feeling  of  approbation  or  disapprobation 
and  the  complicated  intellectual  processes  which  often 
precede  it.® 

Brown  agrees  with  Hutcheson  in  maintaining  the  disin- 
terested character  of  the  benevolent  affections,  though  he 
emphatically  repudiates  the  theory  that  "  whatever  is  felt  by 
us  to  be  virtuous  is  felt  to  deserve  that  name  merely  as  in- 
volving some  benevolent  desire.''  ^ 

To  go  back  to  two  earlier  writers, — Paley  and  Bentham, 
though  they  reject,  the  latter  with  scorn,  the  idea  of  an 
original  moral  sense,^  both  agree  in  adopting  the  tendency  to 

*  Lecture  Ixxxii.  This  lecture  is  well  worth  the  close  attention  of 
any  student  of  Moral  Philosophy. 

'*  Hutcheson  on  the  Nature  and  Conduct  of  the  Passions,  Sect.  1, 

*  See  my  remarks  on  this  subject  at  the  beginning  of  ch.  2. 
^  Lecture  Ixxxvi. 

'  See  Paley's  Moral  and  Political  Philosophy,  Bk.  L,  ch.  5; 
Bentham's  Introduction  to  the  Principles  of  Morals  and  Legislation,  ch.  2. 


236 


HUTCHESON, 


promote  happiness  as  the  ultimate  test  of  action.  Neither  of 
them  seems  to  have  been  familiar  with  the  works  of  Hutcheson^ 
and  indeed  what  may  be  called  the  psychological  questions  of 
ethics,  such  as  the  origin  of  the  moral  sentiments  and  the 
nature  of  the  moral  faculty appear  to  have  possessed  no  interest 
for  them.  Their  object  was  almost  exclusively  to  determine 
specific  duties,  and  hence  an  intelligible  criterion  of  actions, 
easily  capable  of  application,  was  all  that  they  asked  from  the 
theory  of  ethics.  Such  a  criterion  they  found  in  what  has  been 
called  the  eudtemonistic  or  '^greatest  happiness^''  principle, 
and  the  body  of  their  works  is  occupied  in  testing  by  it 
received  maxims  of  conduct_,  or  deducing  from  it  general  rules 
of  action.  It  is  curious  that  the  earliest  shape  in  which 
Bentham  stated  the  utilitarian  formula  was  in  the  very  words 
of  Hutcheson,  "  The  greatest  happiness  of  the  greatest 
number,"  for  which  he  afterwards  substituted  the  simpler  ex- 
pression, The  greatest  happiness.^^  *  Bentham,  as  is  well 
known,  included  the  lower  animals  among  the  objects  of  moral 
action.  It  is  a  point  of  similarity  that  Hutcheson  not  infre- 
quently speaks  of  "  sensitive  natures  ^  as  the  recipients  of 
those  pleasures  which  it  is  the  duty  of  the  virtuous  man  to 
diffuse. 

In  France,  Hutcheson^s  writings  do  not  appear  to  have 
attracted  much  attention,  though  the  Essai/s  on  Beauty 
and  Virtue  were  translated  into  French  in  1749,  and  the 
posthumous  work,  A  Sj/stem  of  Moral  Fhilowphy^  in  1770. 

And  yet  Bentham  constantly  assumes  that  we  have  a  natural  disposition  to 
take  a  pleasure  in  promoting  the  happiness  of  others,  and,  consequently, 
a  natural  tendency  to  approve  of  beneficent  action.  So  far,  therefore,  as 
it  is  simply  emotional,  he  virtually  recognizes  an  original  moral  sense. 

8  See  Mr.  Burton's  Introduction  to  Bentham's  AVorks,  Bowring's 
Edition,  Vol  i.,  pp.  17,  18. 

^  Sere,  for  instance,  Illustrations  upon  the  Moral  Sense,  Sects.  4  6. 


INFLUENCE  OF  HIS  WRITINGS.  237 


A  recent  writer,  Jouffroy,  places  Hutcheson  at  the  head  of 
those  authors,  among'st  whom  he  includes  Butler,  who 
advocated  the  theory  of  a  moral  sense.*  Butler  was  a 
preacher_,  and  Shaftesbury  a  man  of  the  world,  while 
Hutcheson  was  a  metaphysician  by  profession.  It  is  not 
remarkable,  therefore,  that  the  doctrine,  which  the  two 
former  merely  indicated,  should  have  received  from  the  latter 
a  full  development  under  a  precise  and  philosophic  form. 
Shaftesbury  and  Butler  suggested  the  idea,  Hutcheson  formed 
the  system,  of  the  moral  sense.''  Cousin,  in  his  Cours 
d^Histoire  de  la  Philosophie  Morale  du  XVIIIieme  Steele^ 
devotes  two  lectures  to  an  examination  of  Hutcheson's  system, 
of  which,  though,  of  course,  differing  from  it,  he  speaks  with 
great  respect. 

Hettner  ^  tells  us  that  the  teaching  of  the  early  Scottish 
philosophers,  of  w^hom  Hutcheson  may  be  regarded  as  the 
chief,  so  thoroughly  represented  the  spirit  of  the  age  that, 
when  it  passed  over  into  Germany,  it  penetrated  not  only 
into  the  sermons,  but  even  into  the  catechisms  and  children''s 
books  (Kinderfreunde)  of  the  rationalizing  divines  of  that 
period.  The  winters,  through  whose  instrumentality  it  was 
mainly  propagated,  were  Abbt  (who  wrote  a  book  on  Merit), 
Garve,  and  Mendelssohn.  The  four  essays,  he  further  tells 
us,  were  several  times  translated  into  German.  It  may  be 
added,  as  a  striking  proof  of  the  popularity  of  Hutcheson  and 
the  Scottish  philosophy  in  Germany,  at  that  time,  that  the 

*  JoufFroy's  Lectures  on  the  Introduction  to  Ethics,  translated  by 
Channing  (Boston,  1860),  Lecture  xix. 

2  LiteraturgescJiichte  des  achtzehnten  Jahrhunderts,  Erster  Theil. 
Much  detailed  information  on  the  relation  of  Hutcheson,  as  well  as 
Shaftpsbury,  to  various  German  Philosophers  of  the  eighteenth  century, 
will  be  found  in  a  recent  monograph,  "  Einfluss  der  englischen  Philo- 
sophen  seit  Bacon  auf  die  deutsche  Philosophie  des  18  Jahrhunderts,"  by 
G.  Zart,  Berlin,  1881. 


238 


HUTCHESON, 


System  of  Moral  Philosophy  was  translated  into  German  in 
1756,  the  very  year  after  its  appearance  at  Glasgow.  An 
entirely  different  turn,  however,  was  soon  to  be  given  to  the 
ethical  philosophy  of  Germany  by  Kant,  who,  pursuing  the 
principles  already  rendered  familiar  in  England  by  Cud  worth, 
Clarke,  and  Price,  attempted  to  construct  a  system  of  morals 
on  a  purely  intellectual  basis.  All  ethical  ideas,  according  to 
Kant,  have  their  origin  and  seat  altogether  a  priori  in  reason  ; 
they  are  not  susceptible  of  explanation  upon  any  d  joosteriori 
system;  and  the  reason  from  which  they  and  the  laws  of 
morality  are  derived  must  be  the  pure  or  naked  reason,  not  the 
particular  human  reason,  but  reason  as  such,  abstractedly  and 
apart  from  the  nature  of  man.^  There  is  indeed  a  moral 
feeling,  but  it  never  operates  antecedently  to  the  reason,  and 
indeed  is  produced  solely  by  reason.  It  is  simply  a  capacity 
of  taking  an  interest  in  the  law  or  reverence  for  the  law  itself, 
and  cannot  be  reckoned  either  as  pleasure  or  pain.''  This 
moral  feeling,  it  need  hardly  be  said,  has  little  relation  to  the 
moral  sense  of  Hutcheson.  Of  later  German  philosophers  the 
only  one  who  bears  any  affinity  to  Hutcheson  is  Jacobi,  in  the 
earlier  period  of  his  speculative  activity. 

Hutcheson's  principal  contributions  to  the  subsequent  de- 
velopment of  moral  philosophy  (and  to  ethics,  as  representing 
the  main  stream  of  his  influence,  I  have  thought  it  best  to 
confine  myself  in  the  present  chapter)  may  be  briefly  summed 
up  under  four  heads.  First,  his  writings  must  have  power- 
fully aided  the  tendency  to  detach  ethics  from  theology,  and 
to  treat  questions  of  morality  as  an  independent  branch  of 

3  Grundlegung  zur  Metaphysik  der  Sitten  (Groundwork  of  the  Meta- 
phj^sic  of  Ethics),  Zweiter  Abschnitt  (2nd  Section). 

^  Kritik  der  praktischen  Yernunft,  Erstes  Buch,  Drittes  HauptstUck. 
(Analytic  of  the  Practical  Eeason,  Bk.  I.,  ch.  3). 


INFLUENCE  OF  HIS  WRITINGS.  239 


investigation,  capable  of  a  methodical  and  scientific  handling. 
Hutcheson's  professional  and  ecclesiastical  position  was  calcu- 
lated to  lend  great  weight  to  his  example  in  a  matter  of  this 
kind ;  and  though  Butler  was,  at  the  same  time,  virtually 
pursuing  the  same  method,  it  was  less  patent  to  his  readers 
that  he  was  doing  so.  Another  mode  in  which  Hutcheson, 
like  Shaftesbury,  powerfully  contributed  to  a  sounder  treat- 
ment of  the  problems  of  ethics  was  by  laying  a  psychological 
basis  for  the  science.  The  ultimate  difficulties  in  these 
inquiries,  such  as  the  origin  of  moral  distinctions  and  the 
nature  of  moral  obligation,  he  saw  could  only  be  solved  by  a 
careful  examination  of  the  human  mind.  Such  an  examination 
requires,  of  course,  to  be  supplemented  by  a  historical  survey 
of  society,  in  all  its  varieties  and  stages,  and,  as  this  branch  of 
the  investigation  is  wanting  in  Hutcheson,  his  results  are 
necessarily  imperfect.  But  the  study  of  moral  action  in 
reference  to  the  constitution  of  the  human  mind  at  all,  how- 
ever limited  the  area  from  which  the  instances  were  taken, 
was  a  great  and  decided  advance  on  the  merely  arbitrary 
procedure  of  most  of  the  earlier  moralists.  More  specirically, 
the  psychological  analysis  of  the  mental  processes  preceding 
action,  as  well  as  the  less  successful  attempt  to  analyze  the 
act  of  moral  approbation  or  disapprobation,  formed  most 
important  contributions  to  the  subsequent  discussion  of  the 
question  on  the  exact  relations  between  the  operations  of  the 
reason  and  the  emotions  in  our  moral  acts.  And  lastly, 
Hutcheson  did  more  than,  perhaps,  any  preceding  moralist 
towards  supplying  an  adequate  expression  for  the  moral 
criterion  of  actions,  affections,  and  characters.  His  writings, 
together  with  those  of  Shaftesbury  and  Hume,  undoubtedlj'- 
paved  the  way  for  the  general  reception,  towards  the  end  of 
the  century,  of  what  is  now  called  Utilitarianism.  Whether 
that  theory  provides  a  sufficient  guide  and  test  of  action  will 


240 


HUTCHESON. 


always,  perhaps,  be  open  to  some  dispute.  But  it  cannot  be 
questioned,  I  think,  that  Hutcheson  occupies  an  important 
place  in  its  history. 

Shaftesbury  and  Hutcheson  do  not  stand  in  the  first  rank 
of  philosophers.  Neither  in  the  roll  of  fame  nor  in  that  of 
merit,  do  they  compete  with  Bacon,  Hobbes,  Locke,  Berkeley, 
Hume,  Descartes,  Spinoza,  or  Kant.  But,  in  the  history  of 
literature  and  philosophy,  as  in  that  of  war  and  politics, 
posterity  is  often  unjust  to  names  of  secondary  importance, 
and  is  apt  to  pass  over  considerable  services,  because  the 
recollection  of  them  is  not  associated  with  that  of  illustrious 
persons.  In  the  foregoing  pages  I  have  endeavoured  to  repair 
this  injustice  in  the  case  of  two  of  our  own  countrymen,  with- 
out whose  intervention  the  development  of  at  least  one  branch 
of  philosophy  in  England  might  have  been  deprived  of  many 
of  the  most  characteristic  features  which  we  now  recognize 
in  it. 


THE  END, 


p 


